


Knife's Edge

by driveintothestorm



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Princess Bride AU, Temporary Character Death, keith is wesley but like not as cool, lance is buttercup but like not as dumb, lotor is humperdink but like purple, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 44,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23834200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driveintothestorm/pseuds/driveintothestorm
Summary: One of the greatest love stories ever told, full of sword fights and pirates and evil kings and adventure. But it's not the story you think you know - there's also space, a couple of secret rebellions, lots of mutual pining, at least one case of identity fraud, and not nearly as much dramatic irony as you might expect. Oh, wait, no, we've got some of that, too.AKAPrincess Bride but make it Voltron and make it gay.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter One

From: Lance McClain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: January 13, 2067

Happy birthday! How does it feel being thirteen? You’re an official teenager, my dude! You’ve gotta tell me what it’s like. Has your voice gotten deeper yet? You’re already pretty tall, so you’d better not get any bigger.  
Things haven’t been the same since you moved to Balmera. I’m just bored all of the time, and since Dad hurt his back I have to do twice as many chores around the farm. I miss when you were here and we could actually make working fun with all of the games we used to play. Also, I miss your mom’s cooking. I wish you guys weren’t so far away (on a whole different planet!) because otherwise I’d ask if you guys could send me some of her famous bread or something.  
The only good news is that Mom said we might be hiring someone to help out around the farm. We’ve got Grandma’s old shack behind the barn that she’s cleaning out for them to live in. It’ll be weird having a total stranger living with us, but as long as I don’t have to share my bathroom with them, I’ll be okay. Still, I doubt they’ll be half as cool as you are.  
I know this move was a really good thing for your family, but I just want my best friend back. I miss you, buddy. You’d better tell me about any gorgeous babes you meet over there!

Your bestest friend ever,  
Lance

P.S. Don’t you go getting any new best friends, either! Regular friends are fine, but just promise you won’t replace me.

* * *

From: Hunk Garrett  
To: Lance McClain  
Date: January 20, 2067

Aw, buddy, I miss you too. And don’t worry, I won’t be finding any new best friends here. Honestly, between the culture shock and being so busy with the restaurant, I don’t know if I’ll have much of a chance to make any friends. Don’t get me wrong, everyone here is super nice! But, they also seem pretty private. I don’t think they like foreigners here very much. There’s this older kid, Rax, who delivers our mail. He really seems to hate me, and I don’t know why. He’s kind of a jerk, but maybe I did something to offend him? Different planets and cultures are really tricky.  
I’m glad you guys are finally getting some help! Maybe they’ll even be really cool, and you won’t be so lonely. The same rule goes for you though! No new best friends!

Your friend,  
Hunk

P.S. I grew two inches in the last month. Don’t worry bud, I’m sure you’ll catch up to me someday

* * *

From: Lance McClain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: January 31, 2067

Keith is awful. He’s a no-good, stuck up jerk who just thinks that he’s better than everyone else. And he’s got a mullet! A mullet, Hunk!  
By the way, Keith is our new hired help. In case you were wondering. My parents like him, of course. He’s a year older, and all brooding and strong and can lift a lot, so I guess he does okay work. But what does that matter if he’s a huge jerk about it? Ugh, I just know this is going to be terrible. All he does is argue with me, and he just keeps trying to one-up me in everything I do.  
I definitely will never, ever become friends with this guy.  
Even Marco and Veronica love him! They think he’s ‘cool and mysterious’, but they’re just dumb little kids. What do they know? They aren’t even five, yet! Every time Marco tries to say ‘mysterious’, it comes out sounding like ‘myth-ear-ee-mist’. What a doofus.  
Anyways, sorry to hear about that Rax kid. If I were there, I’d punch him for you. I don’t care how old or tough he thinks he is. And I’m sure you’ll make friends in no time! Anyone who doesn’t immediately love you is an idiot anyways.

Lots of love and hugs,  
Lance

P.S. Stop it! Right now! All future growth is cancelled!

* * *

From: Hunk Garrett  
To: Lance McClain  
Date: February 6, 2067

Oh no. I’m sorry you aren’t having a good time with this guy. What happened, anyways? Was he just mean to you right off the bat? And what did your parents say about it?  
We got our first catering job! It’s for a wedding later this month. Mom wants me to help, and I’m so excited. This is our first chance to really get involved with the community, and if it goes well it’ll be great for business. They even want us to do their cake. Can you believe it?  
Try not to let Keith get you down too much. Maybe there was just a misunderstanding?

Love you lots,  
Hunk

* * *

From: Lance McClain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: April 7, 2068

I take back that nice thing I said about Keith last week. He’s nothing but an asshole and I want nothing to do with him. Nyma and Rolo were back in town this week for the festival, and I figured that we’d hang out like we always do. But no, they totally ditched me to hang out with Keith! I spent hours waiting for them in town, and after I got sick of waiting I went home only to find them in the shack with Keith, playing cards!!! Keith knows that I like Nyma. I bet he likes her too and is trying to steal her away from me.  
I swear, one day I’m going to punch this guy so hard. He won’t even see it coming. I’m gonna rip his stupid mullet out and shove it down his throat.  
Anyways, I’m sorry I’m always complaining about Keith to you. I’m sure you have more important things to worry about. Tell me all about Shay! Have you made a move yet? Have you guys kissed? What does she even look like? Hunk, buddy, don’t you dare hold out on me. If one of us gets to be lucky in love, then I want to make sure she’s worthy.

Your man,  
Lancey Lance

* * *

From: Lance McClain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: April 30, 2068

Hunk, my buddy, my man. Everything okay? You never replied to my last letter. I know it’s not been that long, but usually you’re pretty quick about replying. Just let me know, man.

Lance

From: Lance McClain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: June 16, 2068

Dude, I’m starting to get really worried. I even went into town to try calling, and it didn’t go through. Let me know if you’re okay. Don’t make me hitch a shuttle to Balmera to track you down.  
If you’re mad at me or something, just say it. I’d prefer you hating me over you being dead. If you are mad, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did, if you just got sick of me or found better friends or something. But I’d get it. Just please please please let me know you’re alive so I can stop freaking out already.

Lance

* * *

From: Lance McClain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: August 5, 2068

You missed my birthday. I know that’s like, really stupid to be upset about. But you’ve never missed my birthday before and it just makes me even more worried. I think even Keith has noticed something’s up because he’s been extra nice to me for a while now. It’s freaky and I don’t like it. I just want things to go back to normal. People are talking about the war on Altea. They said it’s not looking good for them, that the Galra are destroying everything. And it’s got me really on edge. What if the Galra come here next? Or to Balmera? Hunk, I really hope you’re okay. I miss you more than ever.

Love,  
Lance

* * *

From: Pidgeon  
To: Lance McClain  
Date: August 15, 2068

Oh my god! Lance! It’s me, Hunk! I’m so so so so so so so so sorry! Something freaky has been going on with our servers the last few months and I’ve not been able to get a single message through. It’s messed up the whole business, and the whole planet is affected. It’s even messed up ships and their navigation systems. I’m sure you’ve been worried and writing like crazy and you probably hate me.  
I just really hope this one goes through. Oh! And if you’re confused about the sender name, it’s because I had a friend help me! Her name is Katie, and she’s super cool and smart! She is visiting with her family because her dad and brother are in the Garrison, and they were sent to help with the server issues that have sprung up all over Balmera. I told her about trying to write to you, and she’s got some really cool tech that was able to get this through. She told me that all the server issues should be fixed in the next week or so, which means we’ll be able to write regularly again.  
Oh man, I’ve really missed hearing from you. I want to hear more about your siblings and whatever dumb thing Keith did next time. I just wish I could see you again, buddy. And I wish you could meet Katie! She’s so cool and I really think you’d like her a lot, too.  
Anyways, I have to go but fingers crossed you get this. Just reply to my regular COM account and I’ll write as soon as I can.

Lots of love and apologies,  
Hunk

P.S. Happy Birthday! You should be getting a package any day now from all of us. I hope you like it!

* * *

From: Lance McClain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: August 18, 2068

Keith saw me cry when I got your message, so I hope your happy. Whatever cool factor I had left is totally ruined. He also saw me cry when your gift came in, but when I shared some of the bread your mom made me, I’m pretty sure he teared up too.  
You have no idea how happy I am right now, dude. I didn’t think it was possible to miss you so much, but now I’m kind of wanting to take a trip to Balmera anyways just to see you. But we could never afford that, of course. Especially not with the war going on.  
Speaking of which, did you hear about the Altean royal family? Apparently they were all killed. What’s left of the Alteans are still fighting I guess, but it doesn’t seem like they’ll last much longer. These Galra are monsters. Princess Allura was so nice and so pretty. It’s dumb, feeling like I have a right to be sad because of a weird crush I had as little kid. But she’s dead, and that really sucks. So many people are dead.  
I’m just really, really glad that you’re not. Katie sounds cool, by the way. It must be nice meeting someone from Earth again after so long.  
And you still haven’t told me about Shay! I need details, Hunk! Details!

The Best and Most Loyal Friend Ever  
Lance

* * *

From: Hunk Garrett

To: Lance McClain  
Date: March 25, 2069

Can you believe I’ve been gone for three years now? Time is flying by and I don’t know how to feel about it. Shay’s birthday is next week. I think I’m going to finally man up and ask her out. I mean, I’m pretty sure she’ll say yes. Probably. Hopefully. Oh man, I’m sweating now. I’m so scared, dude, but I really like her!  
Also, I feel that it is my duty as your best friend to remind you that Nyma and Rolo give me bad vibes, and you absolutely should not go following them around again this year. Look at all of the trouble they gave you over Keith before. And not to mention how much trouble Nyma got you in all of those years ago with the fireworks. I know you like Nyma, dude, but she’s bad news. Trust me on this, I’ve got good instincts.

Hunk

* * *

From: Lance McClain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: April 13, 2069

Sorry it took me so long to reply. I honestly wasn’t sure where to begin, and I’m still having a hard time. You were right, dude. Nyma is bad news. You knew it all along, and I wouldn’t listen. Hell, even Keith tried warning me. God, I hate that. Keith being right.  
I just really liked her, y’know? She’s so pretty and mysterious and lives such an exciting, adventurous life. I never told you this before, but more than anything, all I’ve wanted for a long time was to leave this place. To go somewhere new, explore the galaxy. It’s a stupid dream, though. That kind of life isn’t meant for people like me.  
Nyma had me fooled though. She really had me going. All this talk about running away, getting on ship and going anywhere we wanted. Like it was some big romantic thing. And I was gonna do it. Or, at least I thought I was. She told me all I had to do was help her steal a cruiser from those Garrison guards posted outside of town. And I did it.  
She kissed me, my first real kiss and I thought I was going to die. Hunk, my dude, it was like the best moment of my life. Except for literally a second later when she handcuffed me to a tree. I probably would have been caught by the Garrison, too, if it weren’t for Keith. God, it hurts to even type that. Anyways, she left me there, took the cruiser. Keith found me and uncuffed me, and we got away fine. But now Keith is pissed. Like, really pissed. And I don’t know why, but that really bugs me. He’s never been this angry before.  
So, yeah, things aren’t going too great over here right now. Give me something good news, buddy. Get your girl. Ask Shay out, and gush to me about how disgustingly cute and in love you guys are.

Your dumbest friend,  
Lance

* * *

From: Hunk Garrett  
To: Lance McClain  
Date: April 16, 2069

Buddy, you are not dumb. Yes, what you did was stupid, but that doesn’t mean that you are stupid. When it comes to people we like, I think we all tend to do stupid stuff. And you have a tendency to see the best in people, so it makes sense that you wouldn’t want to believe that she had bad intentions. I mean, you trying to run away in the middle of the night like that is pretty crazy. I’d guess that’s about 90% of the reason Keith is mad. Hell, if this had gone any other way I’d be pretty mad at you, too.  
Obviously, I’m not going to give you a lecture. You know you fucked up, and hopefully you’ll learn from this. And I really think you should talk to Keith, if you haven’t already. I know you still go on about hating the guy, but we both know that’s not really true anymore. You guys are friends, and he’s probably hurt that you didn’t trust him and tried just leaving out of the blue.  
If you do want some good news, I guess I should tell you how it went with Shay. I mean, it didn’t start out good at all. I totally chickened out and wasn’t going to say anything at all. I just bought her gift and kind of fumbled like an idiot in front of her whole family. And then Rax, of course, just yells at me to ‘get it over with and ask her out already’. Which confused her family a lot because I guess they thought that we were already dating? It wasn’t very funny at the time, but I’m kind of laughing now.  
Anyways, we both kind of just blushed a lot and Shay told me that we were, under no uncertain terms, officially dating and so I’m taking her out to dinner this weekend. And then she kissed my cheek and I probably died. I’ll let you know how the date goes, if I survive it.

Hunk

* * *

From: Lance McClain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: July 1, 2071

I don’t know if you heard, but we are officially at war with the Galra. I don’t know much, just that apparently some Garrison soldiers tried attacking the Prince or something like that. I don’t believe it. No one would be stupid enough to provoke the Galra. Either way, we’re at war. And my dad has already been drafted. Mom’s worried they might try drafting me or Keith next. We’re lucky that Marco and Veronica are still too young.  
I don’t think I’ve ever been more glad that you aren’t here, buddy. At least on Balmera, you’re safe from this war. Hopefully it stays that way. Hopefully we don’t turn out like Altea.  
The worst part is, my mom just told me that she’s pregnant. She didn’t find out until after Dad left and she has no way of getting a message to him. He has no idea that he’s about to have another kid. And if things go wrong, he may never know.

Lance

* * *

From: Lance McClain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: September 14, 2071

Hunk, I need you to take one of your frying pans and bash me over the head with it. I think I’m losing my mind. I know that things between Keith and I have cooled down since the whole Nyma incident and we’re like. Proper friends now. And that’s great. Keith’s a cool dude, when he’s not all weird and distant and moody. I mean, he’s okay then too, I guess. Just more annoying. But lately I’ve been feeling kind of… Weird. We’ve been spending a lot more time together than usual and it’s been nice. Too nice.  
I’ve never thought about liking guys before, and I definitely never thought about liking Keith. But now, it’s like all that I can think about! I’m freaking out here, man. I know you won’t judge me. I don’t know what to do.

Lance

* * *

From: Lance McClain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: November 2, 2071

I’m officially a lost cause. Keith smiled at me, and I actually swooned. Like, my knees went weak. My heart was racing. There were butterflies, Hunk. Butterflies. It’s pathetic! Keith has a stupid mullet and a bad attitude and the last thing I should be doing is thinking about kissing him.  
Is this what it was like with you and Shay? I feel like a damn kid again, and I don’t know what to do with myself. He probably knows. Keith’s an oblivious idiot, but he’d have to be especially stupid not to see this. Sometimes I think he might like me back, but I dunno. It’s probably just wishful thinking, right? I know you said I should talk to him, but I’m scared. I don’t want to ruin things between us. I don’t know what the right thing to do is.

Lance

* * *

From: Hunk Garrett  
To: Lance McClain  
Date: November 9, 2071

I know it’s scary dude, but I really think that Keith will surprise you. Even if he doesn’t feel the same, you’ll feel a lot better once you get it off your chest.  
The country is at war, Lance. People are dying every day. I don’t want to even suggest that anything could happen. I just want you to live your best life without fear or regrets. Follow your heart, buddy. It’ll know what to do.

Hunk

* * *

Hunk’s advice weighed heavily on Lance over the next several days. And the more time he spent around Keith, the harder it was to ignore it. Like a balloon slowly expanding in his chest, until one day it had no other option except to burst.

It was a chilly autumn night when it finally happened. Two boys, laid out across a barn roof, looking up at the sky. The silence between them was charged with a strange energy that neither of them knew how to name. Until, finally, Lance had to break it.

  
“You never told me,” Lance began, his gaze locked firmly on the stars. “Why you chose to come here. You talk about your brother all of the time, and you clearly miss him. So why come here? Why not stay with your parents and then join him in the Garrison when you were of age?”

  
Keith’s eyes were like a physical touch burning into his face. Lance tried not to twitch under his stare, or fall into the urge to meet it. Every moment with Keith felt so fragile these days, teetering on the edge of something dangerous. And he felt certain that one wrong move would send them plummeting into the abyss. Lance didn’t know what they’d find there at the bottom, and he was more than a little scared to find out.

  
“My brother… After Shiro joined the Garrison... My parents were too poor to take care of me. I couldn’t stay if I wanted to. And I’ve always been good at manual labor, so I found the first job I saw and took it. And, now that my parents are gone, I haven’t seen much reason to leave. Sure, I could have joined the Garrison. I originally planned to. But things… changed, I guess.”  
Lance caught the movement of Keith rubbing his eyes in his peripheral. Without even thinking about it, Lance reached a hand over to wrap around the other boy’s wrist. His thumb stroked slow, gentle circles on his skin.

  
For a moment, Keith tensed under his touch, and then slowly relaxed. He cleared his throat before continuing.

  
“What about you? You used to talk all the time about running off and joining the Garrison when we were younger. Why haven’t you?” he asked. Lance gave a tiny shrug, closing his eyes. He tried to think of an answer that didn’t sound pathetic. Because he knew it was pointless? That he’d never be good enough? That he was scared to leave his family?

  
“Like you said, things changed. Especially after that whole thing with Nyma. My parents need me here,” he answered. “Three young kids are a handful, and there are too many things around the farm to keep up with, even with you here. Besides, I think I’m more suited to farm work than… trying to be a hero or something. I’m not really the soldier type, like Shiro, or even you.”

  
Keith shifted onto his side so that he was facing Lance. Lance opened his eyes and finally allowed their gazes to meet. Keith’s violet eyes were narrowed with an emotion that Lance did not recognize. He seemed to be searching for something on Lance’s face, but he couldn’t imagine what.

  
“You’re allowed to seek your own happiness, Lance,” he said. As if he had seen Lance’s soul, and was reading his insecurities like a book. “You deserve to chase your own dreams. You don’t have to sacrifice that for everyone else.” These were things that Lance knew, that he tried to tell himself all of the time. But he’d never heard the words spoken aloud before, and they felt a lot more like a physical blow than he expected.

  
If his eyes were burning with tears, Lance would later blame it on some stray dust. He laughed, but it sounded more forced than he would have liked.

  
“Thanks, Keith,” he said, looking away. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. You’d better be careful, or I might start to think you actually like me or something…” He’d meant it as a joke, but when he looked back over, he swore that Keith was blushing.

  
“I mean, I do like you, Lance,” he said slowly. “I know we argue a lot, but it’s not because I hate you. I mean, yeah, you’re annoying as hell sometimes. Especially when I first got here. You were a real dick back then. Always so bossy and mean. But things did get better. Things are… different, now…” He trailed off, eyes flickering downward for a moment. Lance tried not to wonder if he was looking at his lips. He tried really hard.

  
Despite that, his lungs still seemed to tighten painfully in his chest. Was that hope, he was feeling? Now that was a dangerous emotion if he’d ever seen one.

  
“Different how?” he found himself asking, sounding a little breathless. Had Keith always been this close? And how was his heart racing so fast?

  
“Well, I mean… we’re friends now…” Why did he sound so uncertain about that? “And you aren’t nearly as awful as you used to be…” Okay, now Keith was definitely staring at his mouth. Why was he doing that? “And I just…” Now that Lance thought about it (for probably the millionth time), Keith had a pretty nice mouth himself. It was so pink, and it looked so soft… “Whenever you’re around I just-”

  
“Kiss me?” Lance was blurting, before he could even think about it. It came out a little louder than he’d intended, and Keith’s eyes widened as they jumped back up to meet his. “I mean, uh- fuck. Sorry.” Mind racing with panicked thoughts, too fast for him to even keep up with, Lance quickly sat upright. He needed more space between them. Before he did something stupid. Like grabbing Keith by his stupid mullet and slamming their mouths together.

  
“Wait, Lance,” Keith was saying, sitting up as well. But it sounded muffled and distant. Like he was under water. God, was he about to yell at Lance? Laugh at him? For all he knew, Keith wasn’t even into guys. Why would Lance just assume - “Say that again. Please?”

  
Fuck, and Lance could never say no to Keith. Not when he was asking him like that. With his voice so soft, so desperate. Lance shivered as a cool breeze blew over them, and then turned back to his friend. Keith was staring at him, eyes dark and hopeful. And so damn beautiful. How did he never see it before?

  
He took a deep breath. Fuck it. Time to follow Hunk’s advice.

  
“I said ‘kiss me’, Mullet.” He twisted his torso to face Keith fully, ready for whatever he had to throw at him. Laughter, rejection. Maybe even anger.

Of course Keith would never match up to his expectations. When did he ever?

  
With slow, careful movements, Keith reached up to cup his hands around Lance’s jaw. His calloused fingers sent a rush of tingles across his skin. Lance shivered, but let Keith gently guide him closer.  
“As you wish,” he breathed across his mouth. And then they were kissing. Slow, tender, cautious movements. As if they both understood how fragile this moment really was, and were scared of shattering it.

And as Keith’s tongue brushed against his lip, Lance felt them finally hurtle over that knife’s edge.

Oh, he realized, grasping desperately at Keith’s shoulders. I guess this is why they call it falling.

* * *

From: Lance McClain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: November 11, 2071

Dude. Hunk. My buddy. My man. You were right. You were so fucking right, and I’ve never been happier to say that. We kissed! Keith and I, that is. Or is it Keith and me? I hate grammar. Anyways, that’s not important. We kissed!! Like, a lot. We probably would have done more than that, to be honest, but it was freezing as hell and we both had to be up early. So instead we just crashed in his shack and made out some more. It was pretty awesome. And before you ask, no we did not at all talk about it afterwards. Would you believe me if I said we’ve been too busy making out like horny teenagers? Because that’s what we are. Two horny teenagers who make out a lot and don’t talk about our feelings.  
And look, it’s not for a lack of effort on my part. It’s literally just that every time I look at the dude, all I can think about is kissing him. And then I remember that now I’m allowed to! So, I do it.  
Besides, just because Keith apparently likes me and is attracted to me on some level, it’s way too early to assume he feels as strongly as I do. It’s way too early to try throwing out the ‘B’ word or the ‘L’ word. The last thing I wanna do is scare him off, y’know? And he hasn’t said anything either, so maybe he just wants to keep it casual. Which is totally fine, by the way. I’ve been pining after this dude too hard not to take what I can get. Just give it a few weeks, and he’ll be swooning for the old McClain charm and begging for my hand in marriage. Mama even pulled me aside the other day and gave me Grandma’s old wedding ring. She said my grandma wanted me to have it, and to save it for that ‘special someone’. And I really, really want that someone to be Keith.

Lance

* * *

From: Hunk Garrett  
To: Lance McClain  
Date: November 15, 2071

There are so many concerns to unpack in that last message, Lance. I don’t even know where to begin. I guess I could start with I am very happy for you buddy, and glad to hear that I was right. And I can’t wait to hear how even more right I am after you talk to him. Don’t just dance around the issue the way that you guys do with literally everything. Speaking from experience - communication is key to a healthy and lasting relationship.  
Keith seems like a great guy, and after everything you’ve been through I highly doubt he’ll go running through the hills because you use your words to express something for once.

Hunk

* * *

From: Hunk Garrett  
To: Lance McClain  
Date: November 15, 2071

I know I just literally sent you a message, but this is important and I don’t have a lot of time. You remember Katie, the girl I told you about a few years back? We’ve been keeping in touch. I can’t tell you exactly how she knows this, other than that she’s pretty much a hacking God, but apparently the Galra are about to make a move that involves taking out all of Earth’s servers and shutting down off-world communication. She’s already warned the Garrison, but I doubt they’ll listen.  
If this really does happen, it means we won’t be able to talk for a while. Possibly a long time. Maybe we’ll get lucky and nothing will happen, but just in case…  
I love you buddy. You’re my best friend in the whole universe and whatever happens with this stupid war, I need you to keep yourself alive. Stay smart, stay safe, and tell Keith you’re in love with him before it’s too late.  
I hope I’ll get to see you soon, Lance. Take care of yourself.

Hunk

* * *

It had been two weeks since Lance received Hunk’s last letter. And, just like he’d said, two short days later all servers mysteriously crashed. Suddenly they went from being capable of communicating with planets on the other side of the galaxy to barely managing to send messages across a continent. Surface communications were still possible, but greatly limited. If you at least had your own radio, you might be able to keep in the loop.

Lance’s family was never so lucky.

And so it was with a terrifying sensation of dread that they were suddenly cut off from the rest of the world, only able to get minimal information from the Garrison troops stationed in town. This, on top of the absence of his father, did not help Lance’s anxiety in the slightest.

“Lance, can you please stop pacing?” Keith groused from his position on his bed. He sat against the headboard, book in his lap, but Lance could tell he’d stopped paying attention to the words ages ago.

“You’re making me stressed out just watching you.”

Lance, giving his characteristic dramatic groan, threw himself onto the bed by Keith’s feet. He buried his face into the scratchy comforter that Keith loved so much and groaned again. This earned him a gentle nudge of Keith’s freezing toes against his exposed cheek.

“Stop, your feet are cold,” Lance protested, rolling away from the offending limb. Keith only smirked and stretched his leg out further, planting his foot right across Lance’s face. The taller boy gave a cry of indignation. He scrambled upright, delivering his fiercest glare. It had all of the effect of a wet kitten.

“What’s wrong?” Keith teased, expression perfectly deadpan. “Too kinky for you?” Lance went an amusing shade of red at that, but he was grinning and trying hard to suppress his laughter.

“Wh-what? Keith! You can’t just say that! I’m the funny one here, not you!” he declared. He reached for Keith’s still stretched out legs and pinned them down so that he could crawl closer and straddle his lap. Keith eagerly tossed his book to the side, hands grabbing at Lance’s hips to tug him closer.

“I’m funny,” he argued with a smile. It was so disgustingly bright and happy that Lance thought he might puke. In a good way. “I make jokes all the time. It’s not my fault you don’t get them.” Lance pouted at that, tangling his fingers into the back of Keith’s mullet.

“Your face is a joke,” he shot back childishly. Keith tutted, leaning closer so that his lips brushed against Lance’s.

“I have it on good authority that you like my face,” he said. “In fact, I have it on very good authority that you like my face a lot. Almost as much as I like yours.”

Lance wasn’t the only one blushing now. Keith rarely spoke so openly and fondly like this. It was a little surreal for them both, it seemed. Lance could feel his stomach doing somersaults, and it gave him a little bit more courage than usual. But, of course, he wouldn’t be Lance if he didn’t turn this into a competition.

“No way. I like your face way more than you like mine,” he argued. “I mean, not that I blame you. I am devastatingly handsome, so it’s easy to get confused.” He punctuated this with a peck on Keith’s lips.

“That makes no sense,” Keith said with a scowl. He switched his grip from holding Lance’s hips to wrap his arms around his waist. “You literally just proved my point that I like your face more.”

“Keith, buddy, my dude-”

“Please don’t call me that while you are literally sitting in my lap.” Lance planted a finger against Keith’s lips, smushing them adorably. If you’d told him a month ago he’d be in a compliment war with Keith Kogane, Lance might have laughed. Even now, he could hardly believe it, but here he was.

“Shhh- Don’t ruin the moment, Keith. We’re arguing, and I’m winning.” Keith made a muffled noise of protest that Lance stubbornly ignored. “You may think that you like my face more. But the distinction, my dear mulleted fool, is so obvious. Where I am devastatingly handsome and charming, you are a literal angel sent down to earth to torment me with your perfect face and your ugly yet somehow endearing mullet. You may like my face, but I am cursed with loving yours. So much so, that I’m morally obligated to never let anyone else look at you again, lest they steal you away.”  
It was a dramatic declaration, laced with all humor and histrionics as Lance was prone to do. And yet, as soon as the words left his mouth, Lance felt very much as if he’d just revealed a hugely vulnerable part of himself. Keith, apparently sensed it too, if the softness of his gaze was anything to go by.

“You love my face?” Keith asked, though it came out very muffled thanks to Lance’s finger still pressing on his mouth. Lance flushed deeply, quickly moving his hand away. Keith licked his lips, once free, and arched a single stupidly perfect brow. “That’s a pretty bold statement there. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say something so nice to me before.”  
It was so close, the wording just slightly off from what Lance had been dying to say for so long. And Keith, he looked so stupidly fond and happy that Lance really couldn’t help himself.

“I love you,” he blurted. He felt his heart stutter in his chest, immediately followed by the sensation of a thousand tons just falling away from his shoulders. Shock crossed over Keith’s face, his jaw going slack and his eyes widening comically. He didn’t look like he was about to run away, but Lance was glad he’d seated himself in Keith’s lap anyways. Just in case. “Sorry if that’s weird to say. Or too soon. I’ve been kind of losing my mind trying to figure out if I should say it at all. I mean, we haven’t really talked about it or put labels on this whole thing?”

Lance wanted to keep going, but forced himself to stop there or risk rambling for the next twenty years. He had to give Keith a chance to respond, even if the man below him was taking his sweet time about it.

Keith’s adam's apple bobbed in his throat, and Lance felt his arms tighten around him.

“I- I didn’t think you- I thought that I was the only one,” he said. “I mean, I’d hoped eventually that you’d- I wasn’t sure how deep this went for you, and I was kind of scared to ask.”

Lance let out an airy laugh, relief flooding through him. It wasn’t an enthusiastic confession that Lance might have hoped for, but Keith was never good with words. Even the insinuation that he might feel the same, feel as strongly, had elation bubbling in his chest.

“I guess we were both pretty scared, huh?” He pressed his forehead against Keith’s, letting his eyes fall shut. “I am already scared about so many things. This war, my dad. The kids getting hurt. My mom having another baby that might never get to know her dad. It’s all so much. I just don’t want to be scared about this too, y’know?” The words rolled out of him, and he only seemed to realize the full truth of them as he said it all aloud. He was tired of being afraid.

Keith gripped the fabric of Lance’s shirt and tilted his head up just enough to kiss him, brief and chaste. When he pulled back, he didn’t go far.

“I love you, too,” he said. “You’re right. I don’t want to be afraid, either. I mean, this is single-handedly the scariest thing I’ve ever done, but…” He hesitated, leaning back a little further to meet Lance’s gaze. “I want to do this with you. For real. I’ve loved you for so long that I didn’t think I could go on much longer without saying it myself.”

The grin that lit up Lance’s features was a mix of dazzling and positively shit-eating.

“Oh? And how long is a long time exactly?” he asked. He reached again for Keith’s hair, tugging on it playfully. “I want to hear all about your huge, embarrassing crush on me.” This earned him a hard pinch to the side.

“Like you can talk! I’ve been catching you staring at my ass for months now. You aren’t as subtle as you think.” Lance laughed, completely unashamed.

“Oh, it’s been way longer than that, buddy. Your ass is a gift from the heavens and I will never be tired of looking at it,” he informed him. “I’m just mad that I waited so long for the chance to touch it whenever I want. We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” He kissed Keith again, open-mouthed this time. He used his grip on Keith’s hair as leverage to tilt his head back for a better angle. Keith moaned as the kiss deepened.

And they’d never gone further than making out and heavy petting before this, but suddenly all Lance could think about was how desperate he was to get Keith naked and go right to pound town. If he didn’t get nice and personal with Keith’s butt in the next ten seconds, he was pretty sure he was going to die.  
Keith must have shared the sentiment, because the next time he pulled away for air, he also took the opportunity to fling his shirt somewhere far over his head. Lance stared at the newly bare expanse of flesh with hungry eyes, eating up every inch. Keith’s years working the farm had him tanned and fit as all hell, and it was a tasty sight. Eagerly, Lance let his hands reach forward to glide over the heated skin.

“This alright?” Keith asked, leaning into the touch. Lance grinned and leaned down, placing an open-mouthed kiss right on his collar bone.

“More than alright,” he promised. He pushed Keith back down onto the bed, taking in the sight of his flushed and half-naked boyfriend spread out beneath him. “Although it’ll be less alright if I don’t get your cock in my mouth some time in the next few minutes.”  
It was a bold statement, especially considering Lance’s experience with sex could be summarized as entirely nonexistent. But if Keith was the least bit bothered by it, he certainly didn’t show it. In fact, if the half-chub pressing up against Lance was anything to go by, he was very much on the same page. His violet eyes darkened until the pupil had nearly eaten away all of the color.

“I can get behind that,” he agreed easily. And, well, Lance couldn’t resist.

“I’ll be getting behind you if I have any say in it tonight,” he declared and fuck, why did he keep saying such stupid things? Keith actually laughed at that, tugging Lance down by the collar for another wet kiss. It was heady and full of want. Tongues sliding together while hands explored across skin, through sweat-damp hair, teasing at waistbands. Lance took the opportunity to press his hips down experimentally against Keith’s, earning a choked off groan of pleasure. He grinned into the kiss and repeated the action, the sweet friction against his cock sending little bolts of pleasure up and down his spine.

“Fuck, Lance,” Keith groaned, turning his head to pant hotly into Lance’s neck. His hips rose to meet every thrust, both cocks now well beyond half-mast and hurtling into ‘harder-than-I’ve-ever-been-in-my-young-adult-life’ territory. Lance finally leaned back, sitting up only long enough to tear off his own shirt before descending once more. This time he pressed his mouth, hot and wet, across Keith’s jaw. Nipped at the skin teasingly, worrying it between his teeth while Keith hissed and bucked against him. And when that segment of flesh was nice and truly tested, he carried on down Keith’s neck, over his chest just above where his heart raced frantically.

“How are you so good at this? I know for a fact you’re a fucking virgin,” Keith muttered up at the ceiling. Lance laughed against his sternum, placing another open-mouthed kiss before looking up at him.

“Impressed, Keithy? Are you swooning, yet? Think you’ll be able to keep up?” he teased, earning a sharp pinch at his side. “Ow!”

“Just shut up and get to it, already. Asshole.” Lance, being ever so gracious and kind, only bit Keith once in retaliation before moving down lower to where he really wanted to be.

* * *

It wasn’t an easy transition, going from sort-of-friends/rivals to boyfriends. They still butt heads more often than not, and learning how to combine their fiery temperaments with something as soft and unexplored as romance was… complicated, to say the least.

No one in Lance’s family seemed surprised by the development in their relationship, but it was a little awkward. Lance felt like he couldn’t so much as hold Keith’s hand in front of his mother without earning a knowing, teasing smile.

He was twenty years old and shouldn’t be embarrassed, he knew that. But it was his first serious relationship (the disaster that was Nyma had been far too brief and destructive to be considered a relationship). Lance was allowed to be a little… anxious about it all.

Considering the dynamic that he had developed with Keith over the years, which had primarily consisted of shouting matches and childish competitions, he was certain that at some point he’d do something wrong. It was only a matter of time before he sparked another argument that would inevitably drive Keith away.

When his mother went into labor, Keith and Lance were the only ones that could help her. It was hours of pacing and boiling water and fetching clean towels and letting his mother squeeze his hand until it bruised. But finally, finally, baby Rachel was born into the world. She was beautiful, dark hair and the same tanned skin as her siblings before her. She looked so much like their dad that Lance had immediately started crying.

Seeing Keith holding his baby sister had also done some funny things to Lance’s heart. The same kind of feeling he got whenever he thought of the ring, tucked safely in the back of his closet, waiting for the right moment. It was bittersweet, imagining such a hopeful future with Keith. It felt so right, and yet so impossible at the same time.

The war was weighing heavily on Lance with each passing day that he watched Rachel grow without her father. And with no news still on the man’s well-being, Lance could only worry.

Lance was so worried about his father, that he had forgotten that Keith had his own family to worry about. It wasn’t until the letter arrived that Lance remembered Shiro.

The day that the letter came, Lance found Keith in his room, clutching the letter in his fist and tearing his closet apart.

“Uh… Keith? What’s going on?” Lance asked tentatively, leaning against the door frame. A few more seconds of observation, and he realized that Keith wasn’t just destroying his wardrobe for fun. He was packing. “You going somewhere?”

Keith grunted, stuffing another shirt into the bag at his feet.

“I got a letter,” he said. “They said that Shiro was the one. The soldier that attacked Prince Lotor. Or, that’s what Lotor’s telling everyone, that Shiro attacked him and so he executed Shiro and his team. But it’s a lie. They pinned this whole war on him and it’s a lie!”

Lance gaped for a moment, clueless of how to respond.

“But why would they - Why would they do that?” he asked. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

Keith glared at Lance, face red with anger. His eyes were wet, but he wasn’t crying. After a moment, he stomped over to his desk and began shoving books into his bag.

“Shiro would never! He’d never attack someone without reason, and he’d never risk the safety of our country! They’re lying. I don’t believe that he’s dead, either. And I’m going to prove it.”  
Something heavy and rotten settled in Lance’s stomach.

“How?” he asked. Prayed that the answer wouldn’t be what he thought it would be. Keith paused in his violent packing to finally meet Lance’s gaze. And for a moment, he looked sad, the anger seeping away for a moment. No, not just sad. He looked guilty. “You’re leaving,” Lance realized. Keith looked down, clenching his fist tighter around the letter.

“I have to find Shiro,” he muttered. “And I have a lead, someone that can help. If he’s alive, then I have to get him out of there.”

Lance wasn’t sure what was worse - the heartbreak that he felt for Keith’s pain, or his own pain as he realized that Keith was planning on leaving him. He didn’t want his own feelings to matter more than Keith’s here, but damn.

“Okay, not that I don’t… Totally and completely feel you,” he tried, reaching out to touch Keith’s shoulder. “But is it possible you’re maybe rushing into this? Have you even tried thinking this through at all?”

Keith shook him off, taking a step back. Lance winced at the betrayed look on his face.

“He’s my brother, Lance! What’s there to think about? God, I knew you wouldn’t understand,” Keith hissed, turning back to continue stuffing his bag. He was beginning to pack useless odds and ends, now - a leftover fork from his breakfast, two halves of a broken pencil, one of Lance’s sandals. He wasn’t even paying attention anymore, and that’s how Lance knew he was really spiraling.

“How can you say that?” he cried, spreading his arms out in offense. “Of course I understand! I’m just trying to make sure that you go about this intelligently! Instead of just rushing out there like the hothead that you are and getting yourself killed!” He tried reaching for Keith again, but the other man easily evaded him.

“I can take care of myself, Lance! You can’t keep controlling me, and I don’t need you trying to fix me. You aren’t going to be able to change my mind or stop me, so just drop it!” he shouted. Lance reeled back, wishing that his words didn’t hurt so badly. He dropped his hands and swallowed thickly, trying to think of what to say. His face felt flushed with heat, and yet he shivered. Was Keith’s room always this cold?

Lance tried to tell himself that Keith was just hurting, that he didn’t mean to lash out at Lance like this. But it was hard.

“Keith…” he started softly. “I’m not - I’m not trying to stop you. I’m just trying to help you. I know that you need to do this, and I get it. Just... Slow down and breathe for a sec, okay?” Keith’s shoulders dropped slightly as he seemed to realize the weight of his words.

“I’m not - There’s no time, Lance,” he choked out. This time, he didn’t fight when Lance reached out and touched him, twining their fingers together. “They could be hurting him, and I can’t…”

“Hey, shhh. It’s okay,” Lance cooed, closing some of the distance between them. He stroked his thumb across the back of Keith’s hand. “It’s okay. We’re going to find him, alright? I promise. Just let me-”

Keith tore his hand away with a jerk.

“No, you can’t come with me,” he snapped. “I need to do this alone.” This time Lance didn’t let the hurt show on his face. He knew Keith was going to fight him on it. He’d always been so wild, so independent. It was expected that he would refuse his help at first.

“No, you don’t,” Lance argued. “Keith, I can help you. How were you even planning on getting there, huh? Were you going to walk there? If he’s not dead, then he’s a prisoner on an entirely different planet! Have you even thought any of this through?” At Keith’s lack of a response, Lance knew he was right. “Look, just let me go with you. We can save Shiro together. We’re a great team, aren’t we?”

Keith glared at the ground for a long moment, his silence pressing around Lance like a physical weight.

“Fine,” he relented, but his shoulders stayed tense. “We’ll leave in the morning. I hope you know what you’re doing.” Keith tossed his bag onto his bed and folded his arms over his chest. Lance let out a slow breath of relief, allowing his lips to turn up into a hesitant smile. He reached out again, gripping Keith’s elbows and pulling him close. Keith met him halfway, pressing their foreheads together and inhaling deeply.

“Thank you,” Lance sighed against his lips. “Hey. I love you, okay? We’ve got this.”

Keith nodded, wrapping his arms carefully around Lance’s waist. For a moment, they just basked in the comfort of each other’s warmth, before meeting for a tender kiss.

“I love you too,” Keith finally breathed, almost too quiet to hear. “I’m sorry.”

A few more kisses quickly led to Keith pulling Lance onto the bed, settling him across his lap. Lance, eager to dispel the tension, ran his hands up Keith’s shirt and let himself get lost on the feeling of heated skin and eager touches. With every hungry gasp and pleasured sigh, Lance reminded himself how incredibly lucky he was to be able to experience this. To know Keith’s love.

Of course Keith was angry, of course he was tearing himself in every direction just to save his brother. Keith never did anything by halves, especially not love. The fact that he was willing to listen to Lance, to let him in like this was a testament to just how far they had come. It warmed Lance’s heart to think that Keith trusted him, loved him enough for this. Lance made sure to appreciate every second of it, and to pour that same love tenfold into every touch.

That night, Lance fell asleep in his lover’s arms, dreaming of the journey that awaited them and Keith’s kiss pressed to his cheek.

When morning came, Lance was alone. Keith’s side of the bed was already cold. On his pillow was his mother’s knife and a single note, written in a hurried, messy scrawl..

_‘I’m sorry. I love you. I will come back for you.’_

Three sentences. No signature, no explanation. Not that Lance needed it. It was obvious what had happened. Lance pressed the letter to his chest as he cried, desperately trying to convince himself that the words weren’t a lie.

* * *

In the months following Keith’s departure, Lance did his best to hide his pain. He told his family the truth, that Keith had left to find his brother. He never told them that Keith had taken his heart with him. With the war and the upcoming harvest, he knew that his mother and siblings had enough to worry about.

He hid Keith’s knife under their mattress and never looked at it again.

Lance threw himself into his chores, into helping his mother with the children. He laughed louder than ever, taught Veronica and Marco how to skip rocks at the beach, and took baby Rachel for her first swim in the ocean. Everything was fine. Earth would win the war. Lance’s father would return. Keith would find Shiro, and he would come back. Lance would punch him for leaving him, kiss him for returning, and everything would be just fine.

“Lance! Look it! I’m a fish!” Veronica called, splashing through the shallows. Her wild, curly hair stuck to the front of her face and neck, almost resembling seaweed. Lance laughed at her as he set

Rachel carefully on his shoulders. The infant babbled to herself, tugging at Lance’s ears.

“I can see that,” Lance said to his sister. “What kind of fish are you?”

“She looks like a dumb fish!” Marco teased. “Like a clown fish!” Veronica gasped in outrage, planting her hands on her hips.

“Shut up, Marco! I’m a mermaid fish!” she shouted at her twin before sticking her tongue out at him. Marco returned the gesture, earning a large splash of water to the face. Lance laughed at his expression and high-fived Veronica.

“Nice one!” he cheered. Veronica’s grin widened as she spotted something over his shoulder.

“Mama!” she called, waving. “Come swim with us!” Lance turned, smiling widely as he watched his mother approach. He let the expression fall, however, as he caught a glimpse of her face. She was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. They were damp with unshed tears.

Lance felt his heart sink low in his chest. Keeping a firm hold on Veronica, he rushed onto the shore to meet her halfway. Once he was close enough, she took the baby from him with shaking hands.

“What is it, Mama?” Lance asked quietly, so that his siblings couldn’t hear. “Is it Dad?” They hadn’t heard a word from their father for months now. The dread that gripped Lance now had him shivering, despite the summer heat. He couldn’t be dead. There was no way.

But Mama shook her head. For a moment, Lance was relieved. But when a single tear escaped her eye, that feeling quickly faded.

“Then what is it?” he asked, touching her arm. “What’s wrong?”

His mother’s lip quivered as she struggled to find her voice.

“I’m sorry, baby. It’s Keith. He- There was a letter. He was on a ship, flying to Daibazaal. But it was attacked. By the Blade of Marmora.”

The Blade of Marmora. A ruthless and vicious band of space pirates who were known for never, ever leaving survivors.

The world fell away. The sand, the sea, his sister’s laughter. All that was left was the memory of Keith’s farewell kiss, a warmth against his cheek that left the rest of him frozen. For a long moment, Lance could not breathe. Could not think.

And then it all came rushing back at once, like a wave crashing over his head.

He’s dead, Lance thought as he stumbled, legs failing him and sending him hard into the sand. He’s dead, Lance thought as he pressed shaking fists to his face, shoving away his mother’s worried touch. He’s dead, Lance realized as his heart shattered, the pieces stabbing violently into his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. He kicked at the sand like a child having a tantrum. His body was no longer under his control.

“He’s dead,” Lance sobbed into his fists, voice raw from screaming. “He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead.”

That night, once Lance had calmed enough for his mother and frightened siblings to guide him home, he locked himself into his room. For days, he neither ate nor slept. 

His eyes found the note that Keith had left, sitting on his desk where Lance had re-read it a thousand times.

I’m sorry. I love you. I will come back for you.

“He lied,” Lance whispered to himself. He closed his eyes, letting another tear fall. “I’ll never love again.”

Five days passed before Lance finally left his room. He did not pretend to smile, did not pretend to be alright. He let his mother comfort him, let his siblings hug him and mourn the loss of their friend.

But he did not cry, too worn out to shed anymore tears.

“I’ll be okay soon,” he promised his mother. “Whatever happens, we’ll all be okay. I’m never leaving you guys, alright?” He pulled his siblings close, kissed their heads. And promised himself that he would never let any harm come to his family, the only family that he had left.

He’d take care of them, no matter what it took.

* * *

From: Lance Mcclain  
To: Hunk Garrett  
Date: August 3, 2072

I know you’ll probably never get this letter. The servers are still down. I don’t even know why I’m writing this, other than I don’t know who else to turn to. Everything has changed. Everything has fallen apart, and I’ve never felt more lost in my life.  
Keith is dead. My mom is dead. My dad is probably dead. The Galra have completely taken over Earth and the only reason I’m still alive is because of Keith’s brother. We had to leave our home behind. We had to leave everything behind and I don’t know where we’re going. I’m so scared, Hunk. It feels like the world is ending. Maybe it is. I’m sure the Galra will have taken over the whole galaxy soon enough. It all just feels so hopeless. I miss you, Hunk. Please be ok.

Lance

* * *

Five Years Later

Prince Lotor, soon to be king, stood before his people and grinned. He presented a dashing figure, with his sleek white hair and intricate purple and black ensemble. His lavender skin and pointed ears were a testament to his mixed and noble heritage. A picture of wealth and charm and royalty. In the crowds below, the people cheered and swooned.

“Good people of the Galra Empire!” he called out. “For many years we have faced war and dissent across our galaxy. Our attempts at peace with Earth have been met with resistance and violence, and it took three long years before we were able to put such violence to rest. And finally, today, I am proud to tell you that peace has been solidified between Daibazaal and Earth.”  
Wild, excited screams broke out, and the Prince paused until the crowd was able to contain themselves. His grin broadened.

“Today, as a sign of good faith and loyalty to the Galra Empire, Earth has offered one of their own for the most binding, solidifying act of fealty that one could give - marriage. This man whom I have agreed to marry was once a commoner like yourselves. But, perhaps, you might not find him so common now. I give you my fiance, your new prince and future king. Prince Lance.”  
Below, a wide set of doors opened, revealing a handsome young human dressed in the finest of clothes, second only to Lotor himself. The crown upon his head glinted brightly in the sunlight. Before him, all of the people dropped to their knees.

Lance looked upon his bowed future subject with vacant eyes. And when he looked up to meet his fiance’s expectant gaze, he offered his best, most charming smile. Taking a deep breath, he pretended to preen under all of the attention.

_The things I do for my planet,_ he thought to himself grimly, giving a lavish wave to his crowd. ___Allura, I sure hope you know what you’re doing…___


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW warning for this chapter! There is some blood and gore in this chap and some almost eye-related gore that DOESNT ACTUALLY HAPPEN but like if you're squeamish just proceed with caution. 
> 
> This one is a little shorter than the first, and honestly the rest of the chapters will probably be shorter than the first because I had a lot of information I had to stuff into that one chapter lol. I'm making so many changes to this story as I'm posting it so if there are any inconsistencies, 1. im sorry 2. pls let me know so i can fix it because I'm too impatient to get a beta for my work. A lot of my friends can tell you I was on the fence about a lot of different choices with this story, so I hope you like the ones I've made so far.  
> Thanks for reading and don't forget to let me know what you think!

Sure, being engaged to Prince Lotor isn’t the _worst_ thing that’s ever happened to Lance. Not by a long shot. Still, it sucks. Royally. Pun very much intended.

The guy was just insufferable. Even aside from the whole ‘I’m an evil dictator about to inherit the throne of the largest empire in the universe’ thing, Lotor was a shitty guy. He was pretentious, arrogant, so incredibly vain, and the most charmingly manipulative bastard that Lance had ever met. If he hadn’t already been aware of Lotor’s true motives and past crimes, he might have even believed the whole ‘trying to re-establish peace after my father’s violent rule’ schtick.

Knowing the truth made every moment that they spent together unbearable. And as Lotor’s fiancé, Lance spent a _lot_ of time around the guy. Attending court, planning the wedding, overseeing ‘relief efforts’. It meant very little free time for Lance, who had grown rather accustomed to being alone over the years.

The worst part about it all, the real kicker, was that this was all Lance’s stupid idea in the first place. It was _his_ idea to accept the proposal of the very bastard who caused his parents’ death. His idea to use the position to follow the guy around, earn his trust and learn his secrets, and then use them against him in a full rebellion against the Empire.

Allura, sweet and perfect and beautiful Allura, had told him it was a bad idea from the start. But he’d convinced her, and everything was at stake. Which meant to Lance that this plan had to be foolproof. 

Well, it turns out, the only real fool here was Lance.

Which was what led to this moment: Lance, riding free and alone along the coastline after escaping his bodyguard. He didn’t intend to be gone for long, knowing that it would only cause a panic. But he just needed a few minutes, a few hours to himself before he had to return to his role of the simpering, love-sick prince. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out, so deeply overwhelmed by his own tumultuous thoughts. All he knew was that by the time he finally seemed to register his surroundings, the sun was beginning to set.

Lance drew his steed to a steady halt along the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. And for a moment, he allowed himself to appreciate the view. As awful of a planet as Daibazaal was, it truly had some amazing scenery. Especially the ocean. There was something to be said about the sight of wild waves meeting jagged cliffs, and the salty breeze rolling over the hills. It was a shame that such a beautiful place had fallen into such awful hands.

For a moment, Lance felt at peace. But of course, it couldn’t last. His thoughts, as always, betrayed him.

It was at the beach on his own planet that he learned about Keith’s death. Everything, even after all these years, reminded him of Keith. Sometimes Lance would remember the day Keith left, the way he’d held on so desperately, kissed Lance like he already knew it would be the last time. Sometimes he thought about the day he met Keith for the first time, so young and full of petulant anger. So clueless of the love he’d one day feel for the older boy. Most of the time, though, Lance thought about the day Keith died. Wondered what it was like, if Keith thought of him. If it was quick, if he’d suffered. It was a dreadfully morbid thought, and yet it haunted him daily.

Lance shuddered, and mentally blamed it on the cold. Somewhere behind him, a twig snapped, and he whirled around.

A strange and unusual trio stood together, smiling at him as if they had been there all along. As if they hadn’t just crept up on him like complete and total weirdos. The first one that Lance noticed was a boy who appeared far too young for the sharp blade attached to his hip. He did not look a day over fifteen, and yet he appeared far too comfortable with the weapon. His fingers toyed with the hilt playfully. In spite of that, his wild, short auburn hair and large eyes tugged at Lance’s memory, and his first thought was that he reminded him of a mad scientist. 

Standing beside him was an older man. He was tall and lithe, and not any species that Lance had seen before. He was tall and lithe, but in a way that suggested some strength hidden beneath. His sharp, beady eyes and charming grin set Lance’s teeth on edge. He regarded them all warily. But then he recognized the third member of the party, and his breath caught.

Lance hadn’t seen Hunk since they were thirteen, just boys. But Lance would recognize his best friend anywhere, no matter how many years had passed. He was taller now, broader, and all of the kindness and warmth that Lance had been used to was gone. His expression was dark and unfamiliar, and something about the look in his eyes had him faltering. Maybe Hunk didn’t recognize him? 

Or maybe Hunk had heard that he’d been engaged to the man who waged war on their home planet. Either way, Lance knew that he could not risk outing his loyalties to these two strangers, even for Hunk. 

“Can I help you?” he asked them, feigning indifference. He pulled his shoulders back, tilted his head up. Forced himself to remember all of the etiquette lessons since moving to the palace in order to hide his fear. Being cornered alone by such a strange trio could only be bad news.

The tall alien gave a tiny bow.

“Forgive me, Highness. We are simple circus performers, hired for the celebrations for the royal wedding. We’re from off world, however, and our ship crash landed not far from here. We were hoping you might be able to guide us to the city.” His words were careful and well-practiced, a tone that Lance had grown familiar with after living in the palace these last few months. He pursed his lips, and thought of Keith’s knife tucked carefully into the back of his pants. He was better with a gun, but a prince could hardly be allowed to carry around such a dangerous thing, and knives were better for discretion. 

(Not that he ever let anyone see the blade, of course. The last time a Galra had set eyes on it had proven that it was not an ordinary weapon, though he’d yet to decipher its true origins.) 

These people were no more circus performers than Lance was the King. Still, he imagined it would be best to play along until he knew their true motives.

“Oh, of course,” he said with his most charming smile. He pointed vaguely to the East. “We’re a bit far from the palace. It’s perhaps an hour’s ride west by horseback. Longer, by foot. If you take the road along the woods there, it’s impossible to lose your way.” He pointed vaguely, hoping the motion might distract from his other hand reaching behind him for the weapon. Just in case. But the short man had keen eyes.

“Hunk,” he said, both a warning and a command. Without further prompting, the man was moving. Before Lance could blink, a large hand was wrapping around his neck. All it took was a single squeeze, and darkness enveloped him.

The prince slumped forward in his saddle, hands dropping limply to his sides. Hunk took a large step back, face tightening with guilt. Macidus ignored the look, pulling the knife from the Prince’s sheath and tucking it into his own belt.

“Grab the prince, would you? We’re short on time,” Macidus snapped before Hunk could voice his concerns.

With shaking hands, Hunk carefully complied. He pulled the unconscious prince from his steed, slinging him over his shoulder. The horse tittered nervously, rolling its eyes back as Macidus approached. With deft, precise movements, he plucked a fabric from his pocket and carefully attached it to the saddle.

“Is that the Balmeran crest?” the young boy, Pidge, asked curiously. “Why are you putting that on his horse? Now Lotor will think that it was them that took him. He’ll see it as an act of war.”

“It’s only to throw him off our scent for the time being,” Macidus said with a chuckle as he stepped back. “It’ll buy us time while we get the prince somewhere safe. Then we may reach out to Prince Lotor and give him the ultimatum - his surrender in exchange for his beloved. Now, come. We must move quickly.”

A slap to the horse’s hindquarters sent it scurrying away with a frightened bray.

It was quick work from there, carrying the prince down to the shore where a small shuttle waited in the sand. The trio and their captive took off into space, completely unaware of the sharp violet eyes following them.

* * *

_Even after Keith had left, Lance never ended up fully moving out of the shack. It was strange, because so many of his things were still there, but his scent had long since faded from the sheets. Sometimes, Lance would pretend by himself that it was just an ordinary day, that Keith was just out working in the fields. That he’d eventually walk right in through that door again, crawl back beneath the covers and wrapping his stupid perfect arms around Lance again as if no time had ever passed._

_It wasn’t the healthiest of coping mechanisms, but Lance figured after all he’d been through, he’d earned it. Besides, his heart was already broken. It’s not like he could possibly hurt anymore than he already was, right?_

_Well, the universe decided to put that theory to the test only a short six months after Keith’s death._

_Lance hardly slept, even after working his body towards the point of collapse, and tonight was no exception. He was spread out across the bed, long limbs stretched in every direction as if to try and fill the empty space that Keith had left behind. And as he lied there, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what the fuck was the point, the screaming started._

_He bolted upright in his bed, hand already reaching underneath the mattress for Keith’s knife. It was hidden further back than he’d remembered, however, and the door was flying open before he could try and grasp it. Within seconds a pair of large hands were seizing him by the arms and tossing him from the bed and onto the floor. He landed with a harsh thud, scrambling quickly upright to get a good look at his attacker._

_The man that towered over him was tall, taller than any human, with deep purple skin and glowing yellow eyes. Despite having never seen one in person, Lance recognized what he was immediately. A Galra. And based on the heavy armor and the blaster pointed right at his face, he was a soldier as well._

_Somewhere, outside, the screaming had stopped, and Lance had the sudden, horrible thought that his family was dead. Galra had killed them, and they were going to kill Lance next. He didn’t even have time to process any sort of emotion for that before the Galra was raising his weapon. The blunt edge of it came down across his face. There was a brief flash of blinding pain, and then Lance knew no more._

_By the time Lance awoke, all he knew was that his head fucking hurt, and the sound of crying somewhere off to the right was absolutely not helping his headache. Groaning, Lance raised his head and tried to take stock of his surroundings._

_He was outside, sprawled carelessly in the dirt like a forgotten thing. His hands were bound tightly behind him with some sort of rope, and as he sat up he realized that it was still dark. It must have only been a few minutes that he’d been out, but he felt groggy enough to sleep for a thousand years._

_“There’s no sign of them here, Commander Sendak,” a voice was saying. Somewhere, someone was still crying. And shit, the Galra. Suddenly, Lance remembered, and was feeling much more alert. Lance blinked a few times, willing his blurry vision to clear. It took him a moment to realize that he was faced away from all of the action, towards the road that led to town. He looked to his left, surprised to see the twins kneeling beside him, both facing forward with their hands similarly bound. Marco was sobbing loudly, openly, while Veronica watched Lance with wide, fearful eyes._

_Lance took a moment to feel the relief at seeing them alive and relatively unharmed._

_“Keep searching. They might have already come and gone, but there’s sure to be a clue of where they’re headed next,” a new voice said, this one deeper and harsher than the first. “Tear the place apart if you have to. It’ll all burn when we’re finished here, anyways.”_

_“Lance.” The voice that hissed his name came from somewhere to the left, and the motion of turning to face it had his stomach churning in protest. And there was his mother, kneeling and bound just like the rest of them. “Are you alright, mijo?” There was a red mark that was beginning to purple across the side of her face and on her upper arm, but she otherwise appeared just as vibrant and alive as Lance had ever seen her. Her eyes were bright with fear, but also determination._

_“Mama?” Lance leaned closer, hoping the action wouldn’t draw attention from their captors. “Mama, what happened? Where’s-” He meant to ask after Rachel, who he was realizing was nowhere in sight. And he was just starting to feel relieved that his family was unharmed, but now the fresh terror for his youngest sibling was sinking in deep. They couldn’t have- wouldn’t dare hurt a-_

_But then Mama was shaking her head in warning, lips pursed._

_“Don’t talk, mijo. It’s alright. We’re going to be alright. Just do whatever they tell you, alright? I know that you’re scared and you’re angry, but you have to do as they say. Don’t do anything stupid. Do you understand me?”_

_And Lance wanted to say yes, of course, Mama but the truth was, he didn’t. Because she was right. He was scared, and he was angry. These men, these Galra came into his home in the dead of night. They put hands on his mother and on his siblings, and were going to kill them without a shadow of a doubt. And maybe his mother didn’t see that, had hope that cooperation would gain them mercy from their attackers, but Lance knew better._

_His family was going to die, and Lance was bound and helpless to stop it._

_Behind them, back inside the house, there was the sound of crashing furniture and shattering glass. Some distance away, similar noises could be heard from inside Keith’s shack. Lance winced, trying not to mourn the loss of all those memories as they were shattered and destroyed just out of sight. Keith was dead and gone, and a few knick knacks were nothing compared to the life of his family._

_“Commander Sendak, you’re going to want to see this.” Lance dared a glance behind him, burning with curiosity._

_A galra, the one who knocked him out, was stepping out of the shack and towards another even bigger galra. This one was not only tall but wide as well, with an ornate and spiky armor that cut an important and intimidating silhouette. One of his arms was made entirely out of metal, Lance noticed. And not in the ‘I lost this arm in a battle and had to get this inconvenient but ultimately cool-looking prosthetic’. No, everything about this arm screamed ‘deadly weapon’, in a way that Lance had to guess was every bit intentional._

_He watched the smaller galra hand this Commander Sendak a knife. And Lance was just thinking a few minutes ago that material things were nothing to cry over, but the sight of Keith’s knife in the hands of these galra seemed to take his already impossible anger to a whole new level._

_“A luxite blade,” Sendak marvelled, bringing it up closer for inspection. “Now, that is interesting. And what could this wrapping be possibly hiding?” He reached up with his flesh hand to begin removing the binding around the hilt._

_Once, a very long time ago, Lance had been very curious about Keith’s knife. Once, a very long time ago, he’d tried taking his own peek at it to see what kind of secrets his rival might have been hiding. That move had nearly cost him a finger when Keith had caught him, all those years ago._

_And you could hardly blame Lance for being curious. Keith carried the damn thing with him everywhere from day one, like it was just an extra limb. Back in the day, Lance had made fun of him for it while secretly thinking it was probably the coolest thing ever. And so yeah, he’d snooped. Waited for a day when Keith had shed the extra limb (along with all of his clothes) for a quick dip in the lake. Lance, being only fourteen at the time, cared very little for ogling and had been a man on a mission. Once he was sure no one was around to catch him, he’d snuck right up and snatched the knife from the pile of clothes before vanishing into the relative privacy of the woods._

_His few minutes alone with the knife told him two very important facts: 1. The thing was sharp as all hell (Lance may or may not have pricked his own finger on it by mistake). And 2. It was perhaps the most beautiful weapon that Lance had ever seen. Not that he was really much of a knife guy, or really knew much of anything about weapons at all. But even with his limited knowledge he could tell that this thing was artfully made, and must have cost a fortune. So how did poor, penniless farm boy Keith get his hands on such a nice piece?_

_Lance had been certain that the answer lay beneath the weird wrappings around the hilt. After all, it had to be there for a reason, right? Keith had to be hiding something, and Lance was determined to find out._

_He’d never had the chance to take a peek, of course. Turns out he’d not been nearly as sneaky as he’d thought, because Keith was on him in moments, still buck ass naked and soaking wet as he’d stormed up to Lance and snatched the blade right out of his grasp. It was the first time Lance could remember ever seeing Keith really, truly angry. Only after Lance had learned that it was an heirloom from his mother - and the only thing that he’d had left of her - did Lance understand why._

_Which made Keith leaving the knife being just that much more confounding because why the hell would he leave something so precious with Lance? Especially while embarking on such a dangerous and ultimately deadly quest?_

_(Sometimes, late at night, Lance wondered if Keith might still be alive if he’d taken it with him. And then he’d remember that it wasn’t just any space pirates that had killed him. It was the_ **_Blade of Marmora_ ** _. Keith was dead, and no stupid knife was going to make a difference.)_

_Even after he was gone, however, Lance never again tried looking beneath the wrapping. Keith might have been dead, but it still felt like an invasion of privacy that Lance couldn’t even dare to breach._

_So watching this smug, filthy galra do just that sent all of his instincts on high alert. But the old, pale fabric fell to the ground too fast for Lance to even think of a way to try and stop him._

_The glowing purple sigil that was revealed was entirely unfamiliar to Lance, but it clearly meant something to Sendak if his expression was anything to go by. Even the galra beside him seemed impressed._

_“Well, well, Haxus. It seems we now know how Shirogane escaped. He had help.”_

_It took a second for the name to ring familiar in Lance’s mind, but then he remembered. Takashi Shirogane. Shiro. As in, Keith’s brother. He had escaped?_

_Sendak’s eyes jumped back to the line of hostages, and Lance quickly snapped his head back around. But he was too slow. Sendak crossed the distance between them with only a few short strides, lifting Lance up by the back of his shirt. Lance couldn’t help but cry out in surprise, the fabric digging into him painfully as he was raised up and turned to face his captor. Sendak was so large that bringing him to eye-level had Lance’s bare toes hardly scraping against the ground._

_“What are you doing? Let him go!” Mama cried, but Sendak paid her no heed. His expression was hungry, mouth twisted into a cruel grimace as he held the knife up in his metal hand for Lance to see._

_“Where did they go?” he asked, low and dangerous. Lance looked at Keith’s knife, once again stumped by that strange and unfamiliar sigil._

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lance choked out. Sendak didn’t like this answer, apparently, because he then proceeded to shake Lance violently like a rag doll. The move did nothing to help his splitting headache or rolling nausea, and Lance grabbed uselessly at Sendak’s hands._

_“Tell me where they are! Shirogane and the Holt boy! I know they were here! Tell me now and you won’t have to watch these children bleed out at your feet!”_

_An involuntary groan of dismay escaped Lance, and suddenly he couldn’t stop the rising bile. There was no time to warn anyone before Lance was spewing his dinner all over the front of Sendak’s uniform. The galra shouted in disgust, tossing Lance back to the ground none-too-gently. Even as the landing sent sharp, angry jolts of pain all across his body, Lance could not help but feel a smug sense of satisfaction at the sight of Sendak covered in his puke._

_“Sir!” The subordinate, Haxus, moved forward, but a sharp gesture from Sendak had him stopping in his tracks._

_“Don’t be so alarmed, Haxus. I’ve seen men soil themselves every which way upon their deaths. This is nothing,” he muttered. “This filthy human will get what’s coming to him. If he does not want to cooperate with us willingly, we will simply have to force the answers out of him. Grab the girl.”_

_“No! Don’t touch her!”_

_Haxus moved fast, snatching Veronica up with ease and wrapping a clawed hand around her throat. The ten-year old girl did not scream, but the way that her eyes pleaded to Lance for rescue was more than enough. Mama was crying in earnest, now, her sharp defiance fading quickly at the sight of her baby girl in danger. But while her anger abandoned her, Lance only felt his growing._

_“Tell us what we want to know, or I’ll have my subordinate slit this little girl’s throat. It’s up to you, boy.”_

_“We don’t know anything!” Mama insisted. “They were never here! Please, please let my baby go!”_

_“I don’t believe you,” Sendak said. “You filthy humans think you’re so clever, think that you can have any hope of defying the Galra Empire. You are ants destined to be crushed beneath our boots, and you will not lie to me! Haxus, take her right eye.”_

_“No! No!” Lance shot back up onto his feet, shaky legs barely able to hold his own weight, and prepared to charge at Haxus. Sendak caught him easily, so pathetically easily, metal fingers yanking at his hair to hold him still. Forcing him to watch._

_Haxus held Veronica against his chest with one arm wrapped around her shoulders while his free hand came up to stroke against her cheek. The little girl’s bravery was running out and Lance could see her trembling, fresh tears tracking down her face._

_“We don’t know anything, please!” Mama cried. “They were never here, we don’t know! Please just don’t hurt my baby!”_

_The tip of a single clawed finger pressed into the highest point of Veronica’s cheek, drawing blood. Lance could feel the anger that boiled beneath his skin, but he was helpless against the strength of his captor. Helpless, as his baby sister screamed out in pain. The sound reverberated in his bones. It was a sound that would haunt him forever, he was certain._

_He wanted to close his eyes, to look away, but he couldn’t._

_Which meant that he had a perfect view of the blade tip that was now suddenly protruding from Haxus’s throat. Fresh blood, dark and purple in the way that all Galra blood must be, spilled from the wound as the man floundered, grip going slack. He dropped Veronica, and the little girl wasted no time scrambling away._

_Lance watched Haxus collapse, choking on his own blood. And standing behind him, just a few feet away, was a human man that could only be a few years older than Lance himself. Shaggy straw-colored hair and a deep scar stretching down the side of his face. A blaster in one hand, the other extended out in front of him from the motion of throwing a fucking knife right at the Galra who was trying to hurt his sister._

_Lance did not recognize the stranger before him, but could have kissed him for his impeccable timing. The distraction of his attack, however, provided Lance with a unique opportunity. Sendak’s own surprise meant that his grip had loosened somewhat, enough for Lance to bring his head forward and then slam it back hard into the face of the commander._

_Unfortunately for Lance, no one really won with a headbutt. Especially when the assaulting party was already suffering from a pretty nasty head would. Still, it got the job down, as Lance was dropped rather unceremoniously back into the dirt, along with Keith’s knife. It took a great deal of focus for him to manage to pick the blade up with his still bound hands. Their rescuer, thank the gods, recognized Lance’s struggle and offered help in the way of firing a few well-aimed shots at Sendak so that the Galra had to leap back several feet in order to avoid being struck._

_The other Galra soldiers present were reacting quickly, laying down heavy fire. The man ducked behind a tractor, but then three more bodies were popping into view. The blaster shots from both sides were, unfortunately, landing far too close for comfort to Lance and his family, who were stuck right in the middle. Lance was still working the knife through his bonds, staying low to the ground, while Mama was already barking orders to the twins to make a break for the shack._

_Neither of them needed to be told twice. Once Lance had his hands free, he stood and grabbed at his mother, pulling her out of the line of fire. He made quick work of the rope holding her arms together._

_“Get inside! Go!” he shouted, shoving her after them. “I’ll help hold them off!”_

_But Mama shook her head, gripping onto Lance for dear life._

_“Rachel- I hid her in the barn. You have to find her, please!” She pointed, and Lance followed her gaze. The barn wasn’t far, but it was clear across this makeshift battleground. Lance set his jaw, nodded._

_“I’ll get her, I promise. Now, go, Mama!” He pushed her again, gently, and this time she did not argue. As soon as she was inside, Lance turned towards his destination. Fire was still being exchanged between the Galra and their mysterious rescuers. Sendak had now moved further back with his men, taking cover behind the crates of produce Lance had just been preparing to take into town the next day. Most of it was all shot to hell, so that was one less chore for him to worry about._

_Several of the Galra soldiers had fallen, bodies littering the large stretch that made up Lance's front yard, and it was an eerie sight. But as he glanced over to the side of his rescuers, he was surprised to see that they were all holding their ground rather well. None of them were visibly wounded, and they dodged the Galra’s poorly aimed shots. Still, there were more of the Galra than there were of them, and Lance wasn’t sure how long their luck would last._

_With Keith’s knife held tightly in his grasp, Lance calculated his next move. He couldn’t move straight across or he’d surely get hit by either party, and so he had to take the long way around. He ran as fast as his long legs could carry him until he was flanking his rescuers behind the tractor. One of them, the one who had killed Haxus, paused in his assault to grab Lance by the arm and yank him behind the cover of the tractor._

_“Woah, hey, slow down!” the guy said. “Where do you think you’re going?”_

_“My baby sister - she’s in the barn. I have to get her,” Lance explained, gesturing. “The rest of my family is hiding in the shack but I can’t leave her alone in there.” The man’s expression tightened._

_“We’ve got more of us coming around the west side to flank the Galra. We’ll have to wait for them to provide a distraction, then you and I can make a break for the barn,” he said. And Lance couldn’t help but wonder just what the hell these people were doing here, how they knew to be here at just the right time._

_“What the hell is this?” Lance had to ask. “Who are you people? Why is this happening to my family?” And maybe the terror was written plainly enough across his face, because the man before him suddenly looked so guilty and apologetic._

_“I’m so sorry, none of you were meant to be dragged into the middle of this. But when we escaped, the Galra found out that Shiro’s brother was living here, and they were convinced we’d try coming here to hide. As soon as we found out what we were planning, we came to intercept them. I’m so sorry we couldn’t come sooner. We were almost too late.”_

_Keith. Fuck, of course. Keith was Shiro’s brother, and if Shiro escaped then it wouldn’t be a far conclusion to jump to that he would seek him out. Except that Keith was dead, and apparently had no idea because they came and they tore apart Lance’s home, hurt his family, and waged a deadly battle on his own land over a man that wasn’t even here._

_“Keith’s dead,” Lance spat out, because he was furious and raw and tired of this war and everything it continued to take from him. This must have been news to the man, too, based on the shock written plainly across his face. “The Galra is destroying my home for a dead man.”_

_The man, who Lance was now realizing must be Matt Holt, looked devastated. If not for himself, then for the news he’d now have to deliver to his friend. But Lance couldn’t bring himself to care, not now. He tightened his jaw and took a step back._

_Across the battlefield, new voices rose up, signaling that the backup must have arrived. Matt looked back over his shoulder, eyes hardening as he was brought back into the moment. He gave Lance an appraising look, and extended out a blaster._

_“Ever use one of these before?” he asked. Lance took the proffered weapon, feeling a nasty sort of grimace stretch across his features._

_“My dad took me shooting a few times growing up,” Lance told him. “Always said I was a natural.” Matt’s eyes were grim, but he smirked._

_“Let’s hope he was right.”_

* * *

Lance didn’t know how much time had passed before he awoke again, but he was certainly less than pleased to find himself on board a ship well on its way out of Daibazaal’s solar system. The ship was small, from what Lance could see of it. They had him tied up with some pretty impressive looking rope, hands bound behind him and secured to a solid metal bar welded to the wall. It was definitely the improvised sort of addition for a ship not originally intended to hold prisoners. 

They kept him on the bridge, directly behind the pilots’ chairs where the leader of his captors sat. Hunk stood nearby as guard, while the boy, Pidge, was seated at another monitor station directly across from Lance. 

The ringleader, Macidus, had Lance’s knife. Keith’s knife. He wore it strapped to his own belt, though he gave no indication that he recognized it the way that Sendak and his men had. A small blessing amongst a whole slew of shit.

Lance tried very hard not to panic. Being kidnapped was a huge wrench in his plans, and he had very little interest in being murdered. He had no clue what these people had in store for him, but he knew he wasn’t going to go down without a fight. 

What concerned him even more, of course, was Hunk’s involvement. Hunk should have been safe in Balmera. Safe from the Galra and the rebellion and the chaos that followed Lance wherever he went. He wished, more than ever, that he’d been able to keep in touch with Hunk some way over the years. Maybe he could have prevented this. 

After nearly an hour of strained silence, Lance finally found the courage to speak.

“So, what’s the occasion?” Lance asked with false nonchalance.. Playing dumb had gotten him far as a Prince. He had to maintain that persona as long as he could. “Where are you guys taking me? Don’t tell me this is some sort of prank for my bachelor party.”

“We’re not supposed to talk to you,” Hunk said shortly. But Lance recognized the tightness of his jaw, the tension around his eyes. Hunk looked ready to blow chunks any moment. He wasn’t happy about this, and Lance had to wonder how willing of a participant he really was. Was he coerced into this? And what about the small one?

“Oh, c’mon,” Lance whined. “What’s the harm in a little friendly chat? I mean, you guys are planning on killing me anyways, right? You might as well entertain me until then,”

Hunk’s face turned distinctly greener, but he did not reply. 

“Hunk! Shut up and leave the prince alone,” Macidus snapped from his seat. “Another word and I’ll throw you out of the airlock.”

‘Good luck lifting him,’ Lance thought. But the threat seemed to be enough for Hunk, because he quickly fell silent. The giant kept his gaze firmly forward, as if trying to pretend that Lance didn’t exist. After a long moment of silence, Lance slowly shifted closer.

“Man, what crawled up his ass and died?” he asked, barely above a whisper. Hunk tensed, lips pursing tightly. He did not reply, and Lance felt some of his resolve slowly chip away. Lying to a planet full of strangers that he hated was one thing. But this was his best friend. “What’s going on, Hunk?” he asked quietly. “How did you get involved in all of this? Where are you guys taking me?”

Hunk met his gaze finally. It was heavy with some dark, unnamed emotion. 

“You need to stop talking, Lance, before you get us both killed.” The finality in his tone left no room for argument. Lance’s jaw clicked shut audibly, and he slumped back forlornly. 

Lance glanced back at Pidge, still in his seat and looking over some nonsensical readings on a screen. He looked worried, a little paranoid. Every now and then, he’d glance up to peer out the window as if searching for something. 

“So what’s his story?” Lance found himself asking before he could stop himself.

“Enough!” Macidus was suddenly shouting, leaping from his chair to stomp over. Both boys froze, ice flooding their veins. The older man flashed his burning gaze between the two of them before finally settling on Lance. He grabbed the prince by the collar, lifting up at an angle that caused his still bound arms no small amount of agony. His back protested at the angle and the rope digging into his skin. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing, Highness?”

Lance’s jaw dropped, offended. He struggled against Macidus, but the man’s grip was strong.

“Doing?” he asked. “I’m just trying to make small talk. I’m bored! What’s wrong with a little friendly chatter between kidnapper and kidnappee, huh?”

Prokok’s nostrils flared.

“‘Friendly chatter’ my ass. You think you can turn my man against me, Prince? You aren’t nearly clever enough. I see right through you, even if he’s too stupid to. You’re nothing more than Lotor’s whore,” he spat. Lance wished that he could have held back the flinch at his words. But it couldn’t be helped. Still, he kept his chin high, meeting Macidus’s gaze. He wouldn’t tremble before this scum bag.

“You don’t know anything about me,” he hissed back, teeth clenching. Macidus seemed to only be amused by that.

“I know everything about you, Highness. Or rather, everything that matters. Talk to him again, and I’ll cut your tongue out.” Lance didn’t believe him, but kept his mouth firmly shut anyways. Better not to risk it, he decided. Still, he glared up at Macidus with all of the hatred that he could manage, daring the man to touch him. 

After a long moment, Macidus finally released him, pushing him forcefully back into the wall. Lance barely caught himself, landing so that he sat on his knees. Macidus huffed and looked back at Pidge.

“And you!” he cried, no doubt looking for someone else to take his anger out on. “What the hell do you keep looking so worried for?” 

Pidge didn’t seem to look bothered by his frothing rage, glancing out the window again shrugging.

“I’m just trying to figure out if someone is following us,” he answered. Macidus’s eye twitched.

“Of course no one is following us,” he said. “No one on Balmera knows what we’ve done, and the Prince couldn’t possibly have reached us so quickly. It’s completely and totally inconceivable.” He folded his arms over his chest as if to reaffirm his statement.

“That’s good, then,” Pidge said with a noncommittal shrug. “This guy must just be going the same way as us.” Lance took advantage of the distraction to reach his arm down, heel lifting at the same time to meet halfway. 

“What - what guy?” Macidus cried, rushing to Pidge’s station. Hunk stood and followed. Lance couldn’t see from his angle what they were looking at, but what he did see was an opportunity. 

The tiny blade hidden in the heel of his boot came free, and with it Lance was able to hack away quickly at the ropes holding him. He didn’t wait for anyone to notice him, leaping to his feet. It was a quick few steps out the mechanical doors and into a corridor. As the door hissed shut behind him, he could hear the sounds of his captors noticing his escape. 

It only spurred him to move faster, long legs carrying him down the hall until he finally found what he was looking for. It was a gamble, assuming that a ship this small might have an escape shuttle. But it was a gamble Lance had no choice but to make. He was loath to leave Hunk behind. Especially without answers. But he had a mission to complete, and he couldn’t let anything get in the way. 

Lance was a good pilot. Great even, following his training with the Greatest Pilot In The Garrison. Now, how well he’d do on an unfamiliar escape shuttle from another planet was something else entirely, but Lance reasoned it couldn’t be _that_ different. He opened the door and threw himself into the pilot’s chair, pausing only to seal the door shut behind him. 

Blessedly, the controls all appeared to be relatively familiar, though there were a small handful that he didn’t recognize. Hopefully he wouldn’t need those. Powering up the shuttle was an easy task, and within moments he was disengaging and launching into open space. 

Through the window, he could make out the small and distant shape of a tiny shuttlecraft following them. It appeared to be unmarked, which was rare. Lance couldn’t even recognize the model, not that he considered himself an expert or anything.

Still, it was obviously not one of Allura’s ships out to rescue him, or anything Galran. Lotor would have sent a whole fleet, not one measly shuttle. No, whoever this was had to be a third party, which meant Lance wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. He increased the speed on his shuttle, ready to zoom right past him. 

The navigational array on his stolen ship was apparently having some issues, but Lance paid it little mind. His first thought was getting _away_ from his captors. He could work out a route back once he was certain he’d lost them. Lance flew as quickly as the ship would safely allow, already sighting an impressive sized asteroid field in the distance. 

Perfect. 

The unmarked shuttle following seemed to have caught sight of him now, altering its course to follow Lance. Macidus’s ship wasn’t far behind, and as Lance danced around the shuttle, he was surprised when the two assailants traded fire. Macidus’s attack missed, but the stranger’s landed. The bright red light of the laser struck the ship, but whatever shielding Macidus had seemed to save him from much of the damage.

“I’ll just let you two take care of each other then, I guess,” Lance said with a grin. He kept going, and within minutes was upon the asteroid field. He had to lower his speed, unfortunately, as he carefully tried to navigate between the enormous space rocks. 

He didn’t make it very far before his proximity alerts were blaring at him. Something large and impossibly fast darted past his window, and Lance let out a noise of surprise. 

“What the hell-” He’d never seen a ship move that fast. He let the ship drift to a stop and leaned forward, craning his neck to see if he could spot where it had disappeared to. 

Something large and heavy slammed into the side of the ship, sending it spinning. Lance cried out, nearly flying from his seat with the motion. The momentum would have kept him going straight into an asteroid if he hadn’t managed to fire his thrusters at just the right moment. Frustrated, and more than a little terrified, Lance began powering up his weapons. Whatever was out there, they were going to regret getting anywhere near him. 

Except that a second later, all of his screens were flashing bright green, data being replaced by a cartoonish image of a very familiar face. Mocking, disembodied laughter filled the cockpit. 

“The hell?” Lance looked around, pressing various switches and buttons, trying to get the controls to respond to him. But it was to no avail. They had completely hacked the shuttle. Lance hadn’t even known it was possible to do that, but then again he was hardly a tech wizard. 

“You must think you’re very clever, stealing our shuttle,” Macidus’s voice said a moment before a comm link opened, his smug face taking over the screen. “You might have gotten away, too, if you hadn’t flown yourself straight into the Shrieking Field.”

Oh. A new form of dread settled as Lance suddenly understood. He wasn’t in just any old asteroid field. The Shrieking Field was known for the monsters that lived within it. Giant, eel like creatures that weaved their way between the rocks. Eating any foolish travelers that crossed into their territory. They were known for being absurdly large and fast, and were one of the only known creatures to be capable of surviving in open space.

No one had ever been able to get close enough to find out how, exactly, they managed that. 

Well, Lance supposed, it looks like he might be finding out here very soon. 

He glared up at the screen, at Pidge’s wary expression and Hunk’s figure standing close behind. His old friend looked nervous, hands fidgeting in front of him as his gaze between his own monitor and the large view screen with Lance’s face. 

“He’s getting closer,” Hunk said, though if he meant their assailant or one of the eels, Lance couldn’t be sure. 

“Come back to us Highness, and I assure you that you’ll come to no harm. I doubt the eels would give such an offer,” Macidus said. He grinned, malicious and sharp teeth that only enhanced his alien features.

A loud _blip_ from their side drew his attention temporarily. 

“He’s trying to hail Lance’s ship,” Hunk revealed. “Pidge’s firewall is keeping him out, but not for long.”

Another hard knock against his ship from a creeping eel sent Lance careening, and this time he had no way to right it. One one rotation, he looked up just in time to see something large and toothy flying right towards him. The scream that left him would have been embarrassing, had he the time to consider it. With all of the controls being taken from him, Lance had no way to try and avoid the attack. And as his view spun away from the creature, there was no telling how much time he had left. 

For several terrifying long seconds, all Lance knew was the spinning of his ship and the thundering certainty in his chest that he was about to die. Here and now, after everything he’d been through. This was how it was all going to end. And for what?

Lance closed his eyes and thought of Keith. 

The ship rattled as it was struck again, and Lance felt his entire body tingle. Like all of his atoms were pulling away from each other, separating into open space and being pulled into one direction. For a moment, Lance was flying free, staring out into endless space. For a moment, he was back on that roof with Keith, watching the stars. 

It all came crashing back together with a painful jolt, his body landing hard onto a solid metal surface. He let out a strangled noise, the air knocked clean from his lungs. He felt much like a freezing bucket of water had been dumped on him, and the cold penetrated his bones. Dimly, he noticed Hunk crouching next to him, pulling him up into a seated position. As he finally regained his breath, he finally registered that, somehow, he was no longer in the pilot’s seat of his stolen shuttle. Instead, he was right back on the bridge of Macidus’s ship. Surrounded by his captors, and somehow alive. 

He didn’t fight Hunk as he was pushed to lean back against the wall, shivering violently. He felt more than a little overwhelmed, and he had a feeling it had more to do with whatever brought him here than the whole almost-dying thing.

“Holy shit, it actually worked,” he heard Pidge say. “Right in time, too, because that shuttle is now eel food. Damn, those things are scary. We’d better get out of here fast.” 

Macidus ignored Pidge, choosing instead to crouch down in front of Lance, eyes dark with a new kind of anger. Something quiet and calculating, that set Lance on edge.

“I suppose you think you’re brave, don’t you,” he said to him. Lance pursed his lips.

“Only compared to some,” he spat back with as much venom as he could muster. Fortunately, he didn’t sound quite as weak as he felt. Macidus scowled, swiping Lance’s discarded pocket knife from the ground.

“He’s getting closer!” Pidge called. “Both the eel and our tail.” 

“He’s no concern of ours. Fly on,” he ordered. Then he was moving, pressing the blade of Lance’s own weapon to his throat. “Try something like that again, and I’ll cut off your fingers. Understood?” There was a gleam in his eyes that looked as hungry as the eels Lance had just escaped. He suppressed another shiver, too exhausted to formulate a response. 

To Lance’s surprise, he did not argue when Hunk carefully pulled Lance to his feet and brought him down the hall and into a small cabin. It was furnished only with a single cot, and was hardly bigger than a supply closet. It wasn’t until Hunk was wrapping Lance in several blankets that he even realized that they were alone.

“H-hunk,” Lance started through chattering teeth. The cold was setting in deeper now, and he huddled his limbs closer together. “Listen, I know you probably don’t trust me, but I need you to listen. I have to get back. You can’t let Macidus kill me.”

Surprise flickered across Hunk’s face, and then uncertainty..

“Lance, I can’t-”

“You _know_ me, Hunk. Whatever Macidus has told you, whatever you’ve heard about me since we last spoke. None of that matters because you know the real me, better than anyone else. Just let me explain, please. I can’t tell you everything, but things aren’t what they seem. My parents are dead. Keith is dead. My home is burnt to the ground and my siblings have known nothing but fear for the last five years. I’m just doing what I have to in order to keep them safe.”

Hunk, to his credit, looked gutted at the news. But then he shook his head. “Lance, you’re engaged to Lotor. You’re marrying the leader of a country that destroyed our own and killed millions for the sake of the Empire. I have no idea who the hell you are, but you aren’t my best friend.” 

Lance opened his mouth to argue, but then hesitated. What could he say? Could he risk everything to tell Hunk the truth? What if that just got them both killed? Until Lance knew what Macidus’s true motives were, he couldn’t risk his identity. He closed his mouth, setting his jaw stubbornly. Hunk was already involved more than he ever should have been, but Lance still didn’t want to risk him getting involved in his own stupid plan. 

No matter how much it hurt to watch his best friend walk away, he couldn’t possibly tell him the truth. Not until he really understood what was happening. 

Sometimes, Lance really hated his job.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is consistent formatting? ao3 will never let me know   
> Sorry for the long wait on this one. The flashback scene gave me a LOT of trouble so it took me longer than I intended.

Lance was still feeling near frozen to the bone when Hunk came back to fetch him, announcing that they had landed. 

“Where are we?” Lance asked, reluctantly setting the blankets aside so that he could stand. Hunk hesitated to answer, face carefully blank to avoid giving anything away. “I at least deserve to know where you’re taking me before you murder me, don’t I?”

Hunk flinched at his harsh words, and Lance had a moment of regret. But the last few hours alone gave him plenty of time for speculation, enough for him to decide that maybe Hunk was right. They didn’t know each other the way that they used to. They weren’t the same people, and loathe as he was to admit it, Hunk was just as involved as Macidus in all of this. And he could be very easily playing Lance, fooling him into believing that he’s still the kind and warm-hearted person he’d always known. 

War made monsters of everyone, and there was no reason to assume that Hunk was any exception to that rule. 

Hunk still remained resolutely silent, guiding Lance through the hall and down to the cargo bay, where Macidus and Pidge were waiting. Through the open bay door, Lance could see that they had landed on the brown, craggy surface of a planet that he did not recognize. The sky was a pale lilac color, the colors shifting closer to a dark purple the further they got from the rising sun.

They had landed on a thin stretch of sandy shores, an impossibly massive stretch of jagged cliffs towering over them. They were like something out of a dream, the way they seemed to pierce the heavens. Lance had never seen the Cliffs of Insanity, but he’d heard enough of their reputation to know them by sight. Rumor had it that just looking at them could drive you insane. What Lance had learned for fact though was that something about the area gave off strange signals that not only messed with people’s minds, but also their technology. Within a certain radius of the cliffs, all technology completely failed, sending ships crashing straight into the waves of Balmera’s tumultuous sea. No one could ever get close enough to get a reading on  _ what  _ exactly caused it. Like the Shrieking Eels, they remained a mystery. 

But why were they on Balmera? It explained Hunk’s connection a little, but raised a million more questions.

“Is it ready?” Hunk asked Pidge, who gave a nod. He took a step towards a large crate that Lance had not noticed before. From inside he procured a pair of thick black gauntlets, a harness, and some sort of small metal contraption that Lance did not recognize. Hunk went to work attaching the harness to his torso and then tugged the gauntlets over his shaking hands. 

Meanwhile, Macidus grabbed Lance by the back of his collar, yanking him with great force onto the shore. Pidge and Hunk followed after, the latter looking rather geen as he stared up at the cliffs. 

“We’re not seriously going to  _ climb _ that, are we?” Lance had to ask, and Macidus shushed him.

“I’m still not so sure that this is a great idea,” Hunk said, tugging nervously at the straps of his harness. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned, but I really don’t do too well with heights.”

Normally, heights didn’t bother Lance, but he figured anyone not bothered with the sight before them couldn’t be human. 

“We’ve got a mission, Hunk. This is why I hired you for. No backing out now,” he said. Despite this, the steely determination of his gaze seemed to falter slightly every time he looked up towards their destination, and Lance silently prayed that his fears would get the better of him now, before they started climbing. 

Dangling from somewhere too high for Lance to see, a thick and sturdy cable rested against the wall of the cliff. Several feet of it coiled at the base, which Hunk reluctantly began securing to his harness. And then he was attaching that metal contraption, which Lance now realized was some sort of pulley.

Lance glanced over his shoulder, unsurprised to see that same small dark ship from before making its way down towards the surface after them. It was closer than ever, but still too far to reach them before they could begin climbing. His heart felt like a hummingbird fluttering angrily in his throat, a feeling that he knew would likely build into nausea soon enough. He’d tried to run from them before, but with the direction things were going they may now be his only hope at escaping.

“No time to waste, let’s go,” Macidus ordered. He pushed Lance to Hunk, taking several loose straps from the harness and wrapping them around Lance’s waist and thighs. Lance didn’t dare struggle, lest he loosen one of the thin strips of fabric that could mean the difference between life and death. 

It took several minutes to get them all strapped in, and Lance had to marvel at how Hunk hardly seemed to balk under all of their added weight. The man, seeming to sense Lance’s concern, gave a stern look that was somehow reassuring. There was a sheen of sweat above his lip that gave away his trepidation but he seemed to find some sort of resolve within because then he was reaching for the pulley. Something inside the pulley hummed to life, and Hunk’s gauntlets began to glow a deep purple. And then they began to rise. 

Lance couldn’t help but gasp the moment that his feet left the ground, watching it drop away with every inch that they rose. Hunk merely held on, and through whatever technology he was using, the gloves and pulley did all of the work. In no time at all, they seemed to climb hundreds of feet up the cliff. And yet, when Lance looked up, they weren’t even half-way there. The journey seemed to take ages, and every jostle from one of the passengers drew a heavier grunt from Hunk, who no doubt was beginning to feel the strain in his arms. 

“He’s climbing the cable!” Pidge suddenly exclaimed. Lance, unable to deny his curiosity, peered down. Indeed, at the base of the cliff, a figure in dark clothing began to climb up after them. Lance could make out a hood and full-face mask covering the person’s features, and again wondered who could possibly be after them so quickly.

And who would be so daring to free climb up this cable, which was already straining under the weight of three normal sized people and a larger-than-average man? Lance could hardly believe it.

Macidus, apparently, couldn’t believe it at all.

“Inconceivable! Faster!” he ordered, prodding Hunk impatiently. Hunk, who was already sweating profusely, gave a grunt of dismay.

“I’m going as fast as I can! This pulley isn’t designed for this much weight. I’m carrying four people. He just has himself,” he panted. Lance watched as Macidus turned an interesting shade of purple, which must be his species’s form of flushing with anger.

“I don’t want excuses! I hired you for your strength, you oaf, not your sass. Move faster!” 

Hunk grumbled something under his breath and pressed a small switch on the side of the pulley. Their speed increased, but only marginally. And with that, the pulley’s humming changed to a sort of high-pitched whirring which did nothing to sooth Lance’s nerves.

The man below was gaining, though Lance wondered what he might hope to accomplish if he got to them before they reached the top. 

Finally, after what felt like years to Lance and probably an eternity to poor Hunk, they were cresting over the top of the cliff. It was a group effort to scramble all of their weight over the edge. Macidus and Pidge scrambled to disentangle themselves from Hunk, leaping over to where the rest of the cable was anchored in place.

Lance watched them race to cut through the material with Lance’s stolen knife - Keith’s knife. And maybe if it had been an ordinary blade, it wouldn’t have worked. But the cable was quickly fraying under its sharp blade. Lance frantically pulled at his own straps that still bound him to Hunk. He didn’t know the stranger, but he was Lance’s only hope of rescue. He couldn’t watch him die. But he wasn’t quick enough. The cable snapped, and Lance could only watch in horror as it slid across the ground and sailed over the precipice. 

His kidnappers were right behind him as he stumbled to the edge and looked over. He fully expected to see the blurry smear of a body at the base of the cliff. What he saw instead filled him with equal relief and awe. The man in black was clinging to the rock face, very much alive. 

“Unbelievable,” he breathed, allowing himself a small grin. Whoever this guy was, he was good. He had to be someone sent by Allura. 

“He didn’t fall? Inconceivable,” Macidus declared. Beside him, Pidge snorted.

“You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means,” he muttered, but then gasped. “He’s climbing!” Lance recognized the admiration in the young boy’s voice.

Macidus took a step back, scowling. 

“Whoever he is, he’s seen us with the prince and therefore must die. He’s on a fool’s errand, figures himself the hero.” Lance hardly listened, enraptured by the way that the man continued to pull himself up along the wall, moving with careful but quick movements. He was agile, and clearly very strong. And either very brave, or a complete idiot. Either way, Lance couldn’t wait to meet him. “You, carry him! We’ll continue onward. Catch up when he’s dead. If he falls, good. If not, the sword.” 

Lance squawked in protest as Hunk was suddenly lifting him up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“I can walk!” he cried out, despite the exhaustion that still clung to him. Whatever teleportation device they’d used on him earlier had taken its toll, and the few hours of rest he’d gotten hadn’t been nearly enough. Still, he was hardly an invalid.

His protests went entirely ignored. 

“You don’t want to know who he is, first?” Pidge asked, incredulous. 

“It doesn’t matter who he is, only that he doesn’t survive long enough to interfere with our plans. You want to interrogate him? Be my guest. But don’t want any time, and don’t let him get away.”

At this, Pidge gave a dangerous, triumphant smirk. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Be careful, Pidge,” Hunk said, giving his companion a weighted look. Pidge nodded, smiling, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

* * *

Climbing was hardly Keith’s strong suit, but he was nothing if not stubborn. Even as the sharp edges of rock cut into his gloves, he kept his grip firm, pulling himself up. It was far from an easy climb, and his limbs were shaking with the effort. But he had a mission, and he was determined to see it through. 

“Hey!” a voice called. Scowling, Keith looked up to see a tuft of wild orange hair peering down at him. “How’s it going?” They sounded young, and more than a little impatient. 

He gave a non-commital grunt in reply, heaving himself up another foot. Either the stranger didn’t hear him, or didn’t care for his response.

“Look. I am in a bit of a hurry. I don’t suppose you can pick up the pace?” they called down. Gritting his teeth, Keith paused to glare up at them. Though they couldn’t see his expression through his mask, they seemed to catch some of the death rays he sent their way. “Or, take your time. No rush. Trying not to fall to your death must be pretty scary. I mean, wow that is a long fall.”

Keith, nearly losing his grip, let out a growl of frustration. 

“Look, if you aren’t going to help me, then can you please shut up?” 

“I mean, I do have all this extra cable up here. But if you’re going to yell at me like that, I’m not so sure I want to help you,” the person muttered. 

“Like I’d trust you, anyways,” Keith scoffed. “You’d likely drop me the second I grabbed into it.” This seemed to offend the stranger, who made a high-pitched noise of dissent. 

“Me? Drop you? No, no, no. I’m way too curious about you to just kill you without asking any questions first. Can I give you my word as a scientist?” they suggested.

“No good. I’ve known too many scientists,” was Keith’s terse reply. The stranger tutted, disappearing for a moment. Keith made it a few more feet before they reappeared.

“Is there nothing I can do to make you trust me?” they asked.

“Nothing comes to mind.”

Another brief pause. And then…

“I swear to you, on the soul of my father, Samuel Holt, that you will make it to the top alive.”

The familiar name had Keith jolting in surprise, and he stared up at the stranger. He wished, in that moment, that he were closer, if only to make out their features better. It couldn’t be…

“Throw me the rope,” he finally assented. He caught the white flash of grinning teeth before, finally, the thick remains of the cable sailed down into his reach.

Once he grabbed on, it was a mutual effort if his climbing and their pulling before he was finally scrambling over the edge. Despite being more than a little winded, limbs aching in protest, Keith reached for the blade sheathed at his waist. 

“Woah, woah, take a breather,” the stranger was saying, already grabbing him and ushering for him to rest on a large boulder. “No need to get to that so quickly. I’m not that cruel.”

“Thank you,” Keith found himself saying, leaning back to catch his breath. He took the opportunity to examine the person before him.

They were short, much shorter than Keith himself, but the unruly hair and round glasses created an uncanny resemblance to Matt Holt. He’d only met the man once, when he’d briefly left Lance’s family to visit Shiro at a nearby base. He remembered mention of Matt having a little sister once. A young girl named Katie. She had to have been around thirteen when Matt and Shiro disappeared.

Looking at her now, Keith could see that while she hadn’t grown much, she definitely had matured. The sword at her hip was a testament to that. Keith had to wonder, though, how she ended up here of all places. Helping in a conspiracy to start another war, which would cost more innocent lives just like her brother and father.

Before he could even think to inquire, however, she spoke up.

“So what does the Blade of Marmora want with a kidnapped prince?” she asked. Keith started at the question. While he wasn’t surprised that she recognized his uniform, it was rare to be regarded with more excited curiosity than fear. The Blade had a reputation, after all.

“I’m not paid to ask questions,” Keith replied lazily. “If a wealthy employer wants a job done, we just do it. What does the daughter of Samuel Holt want with a kidnapped prince?”

If Katie was surprised that he knew about her, she didn’t show it. She just gave a wide, fiendish grin.

“I’m not paid to ask questions,” was her smart reply. Keith scoffed at that. “I do have a different question for you, and you only have to answer if you want.”

Keith tilted his head to the side curiously. 

“I can’t promise any answers, but ask away,” he said. 

“What do you know about the Voltron Coalition?” This question was definitely unexpected, and Keith wasn’t sure how to answer. The Blade knew about them, of course. It was hard not to, being their own rebellion faction working to take down the Galra. But as far as Keith was aware, communication with the Coalition was minimal if not non-existent. The Blade was slow to trust, and preferred working only within its small community. Outside parties were untrustworthy. Whatever research the Blade had done on the Coalition, whatever secrets they knew, Keith was never privy to. 

“Only that they’re a band of reckless fools determined to get themselves killed,” Keith eventually answered. It was an honest response, at least. “They obviously don’t have the means or resources to make any significant effect against the Galra, which is the only reason that they haven’t been completely destroyed yet. Like a flea on a dog’s back.”

Katie seemed amused by his response, interestingly enough. 

“Even a single flea can carry the right disease to wipe out an entire population,” she replied enigmatically. “Are you ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be. No time to waste.” Keith stood. He drew his blade, and Katie followed suit. Her jaw dropped in surprise as his weapon flashed purple, growing from a short knife into a long, curved sword. Her sword arm lowered as she took a step closer to get a better look. 

“Okay, you’ve got to show me how that works,” Katie said. “Is there some sort of switch? Or is it a telepathic connection? Or maybe you’ve got it coded to respond to your DNA? Man, you Blades have some wicked cool tech. Hey, wait, can I get a closer look at that?” She had gotten closer, inspecting the blade from a few mere inches away. There was something like recognition sparking in her eyes, and Keith didn’t like that one bit. 

“Uh… I thought we were supposed to be fighting?” Keith said, feeling rather perturbed. It wasn’t often that his enemies paused to interrogate him on the function of his weapon, after all. 

Katie jumped back, cheeks flushing. 

“Right, yeah. We can do that. Sorry. Let’s go.” She got into position, her form surprisingly decent for someone with apparently no military training. Keith matched her, and for a moment they only watched each other, waiting for the other to make a move. 

Eventually, it was Keith who felt the tension coiling too tight in his joints, and he sprung forward. Katie dodged his blade with ease, her own whistling past the edge of his hood. As they continued to trade blows, Keith realized that this would be much harder than he thought. He was used to being the smaller one in a fight, and Katie was clearly using her size to her advantage. 

Not to mention, she was fast. Like, stupidly fast. 

An elbow to the gut while her free hand tugged him down by the hood also taught him that she fought dirty. He managed to trip her up enough to knock the sword from her grasp, but then she was dancing around him and latching onto his back. Her triumphant laugh in his ear was more than a little terrifying. Keith could feel her bony arms wrapping around his neck like a vice, cutting off his air flow. 

Acting quick, Keith dropped to one knee and then threw all of his weight backwards into the ground. The force of the move had Katie releasing him with a cry, and he rolled away from her with a practiced leap back onto his feet. He raised his sword, ready to swipe at the prone girl, but then something heavy and metal slammed into him from behind. He stumbled, twisting around to see a floating metal pyramid blinking its green lights at him mockingly. A droid, he realized. It beeped twice, and then shot a bright green laser in his direction. Keith dodged it, only to have his feet literally swept out from under him by a clever kick from Katie. His sword dropped from his grasp as he fell. 

It ended, rather unfortunately, with Keith on his back and Katie standing over him. The tip of her sword pressed to his neck, and her demonic little droid hovered by her shoulder mockingly. 

“You cheated,” Keith found himself saying, sounding more like a child than he would have preferred. 

“You’re a pirate,” Katie said. “You should be more than used to it.” Keith might have argued that pirates at least had a code of honor, but he doubted that it mattered much now. What really mattered was finding a way to keep Matt’s little sister from murdering him. He was running out of options, and fast.

“Is this where you kill me, then?” he asked. Katie grinned at that, rotating the sword in her hand just slightly. She didn’t look particularly murderous, but in Keith’s opinion that made her that much more dangerous. 

“That depends entirely on you and how desperate you are to rescue the damsel in distress,” she replied. 

The answer, of course, was  _ very  _ desperate. But Keith had a feeling she wasn’t asking him to spill his guts in quite that manner. 

“What do you want from me?” he asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“Information,” Katie replied. “And assistance. The plan was originally supposed to be that I kill you and run along after my boss, but you being a Blade member changes things entirely.” 

Keith had run into plenty of outsiders who thought that they could bribe him or hire him into doing their bidding, just because he was a pirate. But this wasn’t quite like anything he’d experienced before. Something about Katie’s expression had him wary that she might know more than she should.

“How so?” His awkward position on the ground like this was beginning to really hurt, so he hoped she wouldn’t carry on the suspense much longer. Not to mention, the longer this took, the further his target was getting from him.

“I want to find my brother and father,” Katie says. “I know they’re alive, I just don’t know where they are. I know for a fact that the Blade has the resources to help me. If I help you get the Prince, you’ll tell me everything I want to know.”

It was a little ironic, Keith decided, that Katie was threatening him as a Blade member, for the very same information that he had joined the Blade for in the first place. 

“So you’re saying that you’ll betray your boss on the slight chance that I know where your family is?” he asked.

Katie shrugged. “It was that or betray my boss and interrogate the Prince for that information, but I get the feeling that it’d go a lot smoother with your help. That prince is shady as hell. But if you don’t know, I guess I can just kill you.” She pressed the point of her sword a little closer to his throat. 

“I’m just a pirate,” Keith said carefully. “What makes you think I’d know more about this than the guy marrying the Prince?” 

“C’mon, man, we don’t have to keep up the ruse. I know you guys aren’t just pirates. Just like I know that the likelihood of Macidus  _ actually  _ being a rebel against the empire is slim to none. I was taking a shot in the dark as a favor to a friend, but you’re my first real shot at getting some answers. Just- will you help me or not? We’re kind of running out of time here.”

Keith thought of that moment, just a few hours ago, when he’d watched that small shuttle flying through the asteroid field. He thought of those stupid eels, the secondary fear rising in his gut before the taletell signal of a teleport told him that the princ had been pulled to safety. Keith was so close, now. He couldn’t mess this up. 

“Fine,” he relented. “Help me save the Prince, and I’ll tell you everything that I know.” 

The triumph on Katie’s face as she finally pulled her sword back had Keith worried that he might have made the wrong call. The Blade wouldn’t like it, that was for sure. But he had a mission, and at this point he’d do anything to see it through successfully.

He pulled himself back to his feet, dusting off and grabbing his sword from the dirt. 

“So, gotta name, Blade Boy?” Katie asked him. He looked up at her uncertainty. They weren’t supposed to give names, but at this point he’d broken so many rules already. Why stop now?

“Keith,” he replied after a brief moment of hesitation. She smiled, but Keith thought he might have seen a flash of recognition in her eyes. 

“Nice to meet you, Keith. You can call me Pidge.” 

* * *

_ It turned out that Lance was in fact a natural when it came to shooting. Killing, even, didn’t seem so hard in the moment. When the first Galra came too close, Lance reacted with a reflexive speed that absolutely saved his life. The soldier dropped with two smoking holes right in the center of his chest. It was only after Matt impatiently pulled him along, back on their path, that Lance realized he was shaking.  _

_ “Don’t think about it,” Matt insisted. “Just keep moving. We’re almost there.” _

_ When the second wave of soldiers had rushed in against the Galra’s flank, they’d launched themselves out into the open, drawing only minimal attention on their journey to the barn. Matt had been right to have them wait, though every second that his baby sister was alone had Lance’s already thin patience wearing thinner. It felt good to finally move, to be doing something, the adrenaline helping him push past the pain that still clung to him. _

_ They encountered only two more Galra along the way, though Matt thankfully took the initiative this time. The stench of burnt flesh still clung to his nose, sharp and unpleasant. He thought he might never be rid of it. Finally, finally, they reached the doors to the barn. They were, thankfully, still closed and undisturbed, which meant that the Galra had no idea of the value of its contents.  _

_ The doors came open with a heavy push, and once inside Lance could hear the huffing and stamping hooves of distressed animals. And somewhere, beyond that, were the soft whimpers of a human child. Lance stepped further into the darkness of the barn, eyes straining as they scanned the shadows.  _

_ “How old is she?” Matt asked quietly.  _

_ “She just turned one,” Lance whispered back. “But she’s big for her age. Already starting to walk on her own.” The sounds of battle continued outside, and Lance kept half his focus on waiting for any sign that they might draw closer. Any moment a Galra could come bursting in, and if they threatened his sister then he would set all of his own internal struggles aside to put them down.  _

_ “Rachel?” he called out softly. “Where are you, baby girl” _

_ “‘Ance!” her voice called back, and Lance was able to trace it to the far end of the barn. He rushed towards it, Matt hanging back to watch the entrance. Lance found her curled up inside an empty crate, wrapped in a thick, fluffy blanket. Her cheeks were wet with tears, but she grinned up at him as he swept her into his arms. “‘Ance, I hiding!” she declared proudly.  _

_ “Yeah, baby, you were hiding! And you did such a good job, too. Now were gonna go find Mama, okay? I need you to keep very still and quiet while we run, okay? And hold on tight to me. Don’t look up no matter what you hear, okay?” He tucked her close to his chest, bringing the blanket up higher to cover her head. Rachel, ever the intelligent child, nodded.  _

_ “I be kiet,” she whispered, brows pinched in adorable determination.  _

_ “Good girl.” He adjusted her so that he was able to carry her with one arm, the other still gripping the blaster firmly as he ran back over to meet Matt. _

_ “Is there a plan to get us all out of here, or are we driving the Galra out?” he asked Matt, peering out at the battlefield. It was still going strong, though there were considerably more bodies draped out across his yard. _

_ “We didn’t know what to expect coming in, how many Galra would be here, so the plan was to get all of you guys out. Looking at the way things are going, I think that’s going to be our best bet. We’ve got a shuttle parked at the base of the hill, hidden behind a cluster of trees. We’re gonna take out who we can and call for a retreat, but I’ll make sure we get your family on that shuttle first, okay?” _

_ Matt had a kind face, and he gripped Lance’s arm as if he could express his determination through that alone. Lance stared back at him for a moment, so grateful to have someone like him on his side. He meant it - they’d come for Keith and had been too late, but there was no way he was going to risk losing the rest of them too.  _

_ “I’m holding you to that,” Lance said with a wry grin. “Let’s go.” _

_ Once again, it was a race back across the battlefield, only this time they had priceless cargo to carry with them. Rachel kept blessedly still for the entire run, the death grip she kept around Lance surprisingly strong for a one-year-old. The amount of Galra had significantly diminished, though what was left of them were still proving to be quite the challenge. They eventually made it to the halfway point, taking cover once again behind the tractor. This time Lance had a bit of a clearer head, and was able to recognize that the soldiers fighting the Galra were not dressed in Garrison uniforms, In fact, many of them weren’t even human. It wasn’t until one of them turned their heads just right that Lance caught sight of the glowing blue mark across their cheek - Alteans.  _

_ Real, genuine, living Alteans fighting against the Galra. Lance knew they weren’t all totally wiped out, but last he’d heard there were so few of them left that they were nearly extinct, scattered across the galaxy in refugee camps. What the hell were they doing on Earth, on his farm? _

_ There was no time to ponder this, of course, and so Lance quickly forced it out of his mind for the time being. He turned his gaze towards the shack, where he was relieved to see a few of the rebel soldiers had even taken a stand right outside of it, hunkering down behind crates for cover. If they could hold the Galra back long enough, Lance could run in, grab his family, and lead them down the hill to the shuttle. It wouldn’t be an easy task, but they couldn’t stay pinned down in that shack forever, either.  _

_ It was a hard call, passing Rachel off to an Altean soldier who would bring her straight to the shuttle - he didn’t want her out of his sight. But he also couldn’t chance bringing her back into the crossfire. And at least if the rest of them didn’t make it… At least she’d have a chance.  _

_ The run to the shack was a shorter trip, blessedly, though under much heavier fire. Lance was nearly hit a few times along the way, Matt yanking him to safety just in the nick of time. As if Lance didn’t have enough reason to owe this dude his life.  _

_ When Lance opened the door to the shack, he wasn’t surprised to find it in a state of utter disarray. It had sounded like the galra were tearing it apart earlier, and he wasn’t far off. Furniture lay overturned, books and clothes tossed and scattered across the floor. He spied the twins hiding behind his bed, which had been turned onto its side - either by the galra or as a form of cover, he could only guess. Mama stood out in the open, frying pan raised high overhead and ready to assault any incomers, but when she recognized Lance she lowered her makeshift weapon.  _

_ “Lance! Did you find her? Is she alright?” she asked, rushing to her son’s side.  _

_ “Rachel is fine, Mama. The Alteans have her on a shuttle. They’re waiting for us and then we’re going to get out of here, get somewhere safe, okay?” Mama’s shoulders sagged in relief, but then she was moving closer, hands fluttering anxiously over Lance’s injuries.  _

_ “You’re hurt, sweetie. Are you okay to be standing?” she asked him, and while Lance couldn’t hardly fault his mother for being concerned, he certainly wished she had her priorities a little more in order. _

_ “I’m fine, Mama,” he huffed, grasping her hands to still them. “But we can’t keep sitting here. There are too many Galra, and the Alteans can only hold them off for so long. We need to move now.” For a moment she looked ready to argue, but the increased sounds of battle drawing closer seemed to shut down the rest of her inhibitions.  _

_ “Okay. Let’s go.” _

* * *

There was a lot of running happening, and every step jammed Hunk’s shoulder into his gut painfully. Lance could feel the exhaustion rolling off of him, and his breaths were sounding more laboured with each passing second. 

From his position, Lance couldn’t see Macidus running ahead of them. But even aliens got tired, didn’t they? And he didn’t have the added weight of another person on his shoulder. 

Hunk seemed to be on the same train of thought, because he was slowly but steadily decreasing his pace, until they were moving more of a fast-paced walk than anything. Macidus finally noticed the lag, stopping and giving in to the urge to rest for just a moment.

“We don’t have much further to go,” he said, gesturing down the path. Hunk shifted, finally planting Lance down on his feet, but kept a firm grip on his shoulder. Lance couldn’t help the groan of relief that escaped him as he gave a long stretch. His whole body ached, and his lungs still burned something fierce. 

“You still haven’t said where it is that we’re going,” Lance said. “Is it a torture chamber? A sex dungeon? Based on my treatment so far I doubt it’s a surprise bachelor party.” And yes, okay, maybe being too talkative and sassy with his captors was not the brightest idea, but talking was Lance’s number one self-defense mechanism. Other than shooting, of course, but he didn’t exactly have a gun on him right now. 

“I don’t know how Prince Lotor stands even a second of your incessant chatter,” Macidus grumbled. “Tell me, Highness, when he fucks you, does he make you wear a gag? Or does he actually enjoy the grating sound of your voice when it’s being put to good use?” 

Lance was almost stunned by the vulgarity of his question. But Lance was nothing if not petty. He gave his most lecherous grin, teeth bared so wide it might have been a snarl.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, big boy?” he taunted. Hunk’s hand tightened on his shoulder in warning, but Lance was exhausted and angry and out of patience. “Maybe if you bring me back in one piece and ask him nicely, he might be willing to share.”

“Lance,” Hunk hissed. “Shut the hell up.” But he couldn’t. Everything was moving so fast, his vision was swimming, and there was a strange ringing in his ears. Macidus was watching him with dark eyes, narrowed into hateful slits. Lance had been so powerless for so long that he desperately seized this opportunity. 

“Although, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous. I bet you wish Lotor picked you instead, huh? I bet you wish it was you in his bed every night instead of me. Too bad you’re too ugly and pathetic, right? Too weak to do your own dirty work, so you hire everyone else to do it for you. A fucking coward who can’t measure up, so you take it out on everyone else.” 

Macidus stood upright, stalking over. He grabbed Lance, yanking him from Hunk’s grip to pin him against a nearby tree with a surprising amount of strength. And then he unsheathed the stolen knife at his hip and pressed it dangerously against Lance’s throat. The prince hardly flinched, meeting his captor’s seething gaze with a smirk. 

“Do it,” Lance spat. “You’re going to kill me anyways, right? That’s what this is all about. Kill me, blame Balmera. Start a war. That’s the real reason you hired Hunk, isn’t it? So that you’d have a Balmeran citizen nearby to take the fall. Not to mention, one that I have a history with. You’re not half as clever as you think, Macidus. And neither is your boss. You can do whatever you want to me, but your precious empire will still fall. It’s just a matter of time.”

Macidus was seething, eyes widening with fury and surprise. His hand was shaking, which had the unfortunate side effect of nicking Lance’s skin with the very sharp blade. For a moment, Lance was certain that he would do it. Macidus was going to kill him right here. A part of him wondered if Hunk would try to intervene, or just let it happen. 

“Killing you like this would be a mercy,” Macidus hissed. “I have much grander plans in store for you, Highness. I can’t wait to tear you apart, piece by piece. You think you’re so clever, but you know nothing. The Prince was wasting his time on a foolish traitor like you.” 

The words were akin to a physical blow, and Lance had to wonder if Macidus already knew, or if it was his traitorous comments that gave him away. Did Lotor know? Lance had figured he’d just been a pawn from the beginning, had figured out rather quickly that Lotor could be the only one behind this kidnapping. But he hadn’t bet on Lotor also knowing about his secret. 

What did this mean for the rebellion? For his siblings? Lance would never reveal a thing, but how much did the Galra Prince already know? Fresh fear settling in his gut kept Lance from finding his words. They stuck in his throat, sticky and hot like blood. 

But then two large hands were grabbing Macidus from behind. One grabbed Macidus’s knife arm, the other gripping the back of his neck and yanking him backwards. Lance gaped as Hunk spun and tossed Macidus away from him and into the dirt several feet away. It was an impressive toss, and even Hunk seemed surprised by his actions. His eyes were wide, and he looked about ready to puke again. But then he swallowed and faced Lance with a new look of determination. 

“Lance, run!” he barked out as Macidus stumbled to his feet. But Lance couldn’t. How could he? 

“Like hell I’m leaving you,” he argued, already preparing for a fight. He’d spent long enough playing the defenseless kidnapped royal. The ruse was up, and it was time to show Macidus what he could really do. His hands, still bound together by thick rope, raised up defensively. 

“I can’t say your betrayal is a surprise to me, Hunk. But it is a disappointment. I really hoped that you were smarter than that,” Macidus growled. “It’s not too late to save yourself, though. Hand over the prince, and we can end this without bloodshed.”

Hunk didn’t move, but Lance could see him trembling. He wasn’t a fighter, could hardly stomach the thought of ever hurting anyone. But Hunk was also loyal to a fault, so he held his ground.

Lance watched Macidus carefully moving towards them, knife in hand. The odds weren’t in their favor. While it was two against one, the one was armed. Not to mention, the only trained fighter was currently bound, which put them at a severe disadvantage. He’d have to be smart about this. 

When Macidus charged, Lance met him halfway. He ducked a wide swing and rammed his shoulder hard into Macidus’s chest, sending the man stumbling back. But Lance didn’t give him any time to recover. He raised both bound hands together and knocked them into the side of Macidus’s face. The move sent the man to one knee, swearing. He looked up at Lance and gave a bloody grin. 

“They told me that you were a Garrison soldier before the Prince plucked you off of Earth,” he said. “But this little knife of yours is no ordinary blade. I recognized it right away. Even kapt a few as trophies for myself. I know what you are, and I’m going to enjoy killing you.” 

And not for the first time, Lance had to wonder what the hell was so damn special about this knife. 

He lashed out at Lance’s legs, and Lance scrambled away just in time. As Macidus leapt back up to his feet, he took another swing. It came close to snagging on the sleeve of Lance’s shirt. 

“I gotta know, man. How did Lotor pick a slimey, useless nobody for a mission like this? I’m honestly a little offended. If my own fiance wanted to assassinate me, he really should have picked someone with a little more brains. And personal hygiene.”

Lance’s provocation did exactly what it was meant to, but perhaps a little too well. Macidus lets out a wordless yell and charged. The first swing misses, but the second finds the blade a few inches deep in Lance’s left shoulder. Gritting his teeth to hold back a scream, Lance kneed Macidus hard in the stomach. The man’s grip on the knife faltered, but this did nothing to deter him. Macidus threw a meaty fist into Lance’s eye, and Lance tumbled to the ground. And then he crouched over the fallen prince, wrapping his hand back around the handle of the blade and twisting. This time, Lance did scream, legs bucking as he tried to kick off his attacker. 

Somewhere, Hunk cried out, and there was the sound of rushing footsteps. 

Lance looked up in time to see his friend grabbing at Macidus. Macidus moved quickly, pulling out the knife (and  _ fuck  _ did that hurt) so that he could swing back around to bury it into Hunk’s stomach. 

Hunk screamed, and the sound reverberated in Lance’s teeth. He watched his childhood best friend fall to the ground. Hunk grabbed at the wound, fingers pressing around the knife to try and stem the bleeding. But whether it was the pain or the severity of the blow, he did not try to get back up. He looked over to Lance, and then up at his employer.

“You’re plan won’t work,” Hunk ground out. “The Balmerans are smarter than you give them credit for.”

Macidus scoffed. “And yet you were so easy to fool. It took hardly any convincing to get you to agree to helping me kidnap and murder your old friend, all on the flimsy promise of finding that other boy’s wretched family. I bet you’re feeling awfully foolish now, for trusting me. And now your death will serve the Empire. Vrepit sa.” With that final declaration, he picked up a rock and brought it down against Hunk’s temple. The larger man crumpled backwards, conscious but dazed. He could only cry weakly in protest as Macidus wrenched the knife from his gut. 

“Hunk!” Lance cried, struggling to sit up. But then Macidus was on him, and had the knife one again to his throat. This time, it was wet with Hunk’s blood. The feel of it had Lance’s stomach churning dangerously.

“If you don’t want me to finish the job, you’ll stop struggling,” Macidus threatened. “I could make your friend suffer for a very long time if you give me enough reason.”

Immediately, Lance stilled. He couldn’t take his eyes away from Hunk’s slumped, bleeding figure. The larger man was still conscious, but he was crying, tiny sobs and whimpers escaping with every breath. It was hard to tell the severity of the wound, but there was so much blood. It looked wrong, seeping between Hunk’s shaking fingers and staining his clothes. 

Hunk was never supposed to be here, never supposed to get caught up in this. But just like everyone else Lance ever cared about, he was getting caught in the crossfire. 

“I’m sorry, Hunk,” he found himself saying, voice strained. And Hunk couldn’t hear him, but he had to say it. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fa-” He broke off, muscles tensing as Macidus was suddenly moving. Lance didn’t have any time to try and dodge the fist that came flying at him. It collided with his temple, and darkness swallowed him. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No flashbacks in this chapter because there's already a LOT happening in this one, but next time we'll get to unveil a bit more about what exactly went down for our boys over the last five years.

When they heard the sound of someone groaning out in pain, Keith felt the knot in his gut tighten painfully. He exchanged a glance with Katie - or Pidge, as she asked to be called - and they both increased her pace. It still took what felt like an eternity before the path curved to reveal the slumped form of a man that Keith did not recognize.

Pidge stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide with horror, and then darted to his side. 

“Hunk!” she cried out, dropping to her knees. The man was bleeding from both his stomach and head, blinking slowly as if he’d just woken up. He looked up with wide, tear-filled eyes as they approached. “What happened? Where’s Macidus?”

Hunk. Keith approached cautiously, wondering why that name was so familiar. Nothing about the man’s face sparked his memory, though. He moved his gaze down to the wound, where Hunk was pressing on it to stem the bleeding. It wasn’t pretty.

“He took Lance,” Hunk ground out. Keith’s head snapped back up, neck cracking audibly. “I tried to stop him - I knew I should have waited for you, but I couldn’t. He’s going to kill him and it’s all my fault.” The man let out a ragged sob. Pidge scowled, looking over to Keith. 

“He’s going to bleed out if I don’t get him help,” she said. Keith met her gaze, and then looked back down at Hunk again.

Immediately, it clicked. Hunk. Of course. Lance’s best friend that had moved to Balmera before Keith had come along. Keith remembered all of the letters they used to write back and forth. But what was he doing here now? How was he mixed up in all of this?

“I’m fine,” Hunk protested. “Just go. You need to help Lance.”

Keith stood, unsheathing his sword once again.

“You stay with him, get him to safety. I’ll take care of the Prince,” he said, already turning to carry on down the path. Pidge gaped up at him.

“Keith, wait!” she called before he could get too far. “Take Rover with you. He’ll lead you to our rendezvous point.”

The droid zipped over to him, beeping cheerily. Keith grimaced behind the mask but nodded. 

“You’ll want to get off the path quickly,” he told her. “Lotor won’t be far behind us. I’ll come find you.” 

* * *

It didn’t take long to find the clearing where Macidus and the captive prince were waiting. Keith waited just out of sight for a long moment, observing. Macidus had Lance kneeling in front of a short wooden table which was dressed with a red cloth and a full spread of wine, meats, and cheeses. Like some sort of fucking picnic. Lance was bleeding, both from the temple and his shoulder, but he was alive and seemed to be able to support his own weight at least. While he kneeled, Macidus held a bloodied knife towards him threateningly with one hand, the other reaching deep into his pockets. But then Macidus froze, gaze snapping up towards the edge of the trees where Keith was still hidden.

“I know you’re there. You may as well show yourself,” he called. And so he did. The moment he came into view, both mens’ eyes widened as they recognized his uniform. 

Keith approached with cautious steps, gaze catching on the way that Lance’s throat bobbed against the blade pressed to his neck. And, fuck, Keith recognized that knife. It was a Blade of Marmora knife. _His_ knife, the hilt still wrapped securely. Lance was also gagged, a dark blue cloth stuffed between his teeth that kept him silent and seething. It did nothing to quell the fury in Lance’s gaze. It took a great amount of effort for Keith to be able to tear his eyes away. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath.

“Let him go,” Keith ordered, his voice far steadier than he expected. He’d always thought, back in the day, that Lance was so beautiful that looking at him felt like being punched in the face. Seeing him again for the first time in five years did nothing to diminish this fact. It hurt to breathe. At least he was good at hiding it. The whole mask and hood ensemble helped, too.

Macidus scoffed, knuckles white around the weapon as he tried to maintain his own composure. 

“Take another step and the prince dies.” Keith froze. The man smirked, sweat beading above his lip. “Your employer must be paying you well for you to go to so much trouble.”

“Is that what you’re looking for?” Keith tried. “A better paycheck? I’m sure we can work something out, if that’s what it takes.” At this, Macidus looked almost offended.

“I am driven by a cause far more valuable than money could ever buy. Not that a pirate like you could understand the concept of loyalty, I’m sure.” He leaned closer, resting an elbow on the makeshift table before him. Lance, meanwhile, leaned further back from the knife, letting his shoulders relax marginally at the newfound distance. His eyes were wide, darting back and forth during the exchange like he was trying to convey a message that Keith could not understand. 

Keith wasn’t used to not understanding every nuance of Lance’s facial expressions, but hoped that nothing he did would make the man’s fear or stress any worse. 

With a quick movement, Keith tossed an item from his pocket onto the table. Macidus hardly flinched as it sailed towards him, but when he finally registered what it was, his expression faltered. It gave Keith enough confidence to step closer. 

The Balmeran sigil was no doubt familiar to Macidus, after all the effort the man went through to attach it to Lance’s steed.

“The Blade of Marmora has eyes everywhere,” he said. Keith did not miss the way that Lance’s shoulders drew back, eyes narrowing. “Your plan is already falling apart. Your hired men have fallen, your scapegoat lost. Kill the Prince now, and the whole world will know the truth of your mission. Face it, Macidus. You’ve already lost.” 

Macidus’s face paled, lips pressed tightly together as he regarded the item. Finally, he looked up at Keith. His steely grey eyes betrayed only the slightest hint of uncertainty.

“It’ll take more than a scrap of cloth to put an end to me and my plans,” he declared. “I’m more clever than you give me credit for.” Keith did not groan out with annoyance, but it was a near thing. 

“Fine,” he huffed. “If you’re so clever. Then there’s clearly only one way to settle this. A battle of wits.” 

Keith stepped closer, ignoring the warning look that both Macidus and Lance shot him, planting himself right on the other side of the rock-table. 

Macidus did not make good on his promise of killing Lance, which Keith took as a good sign. He was curious. Keith could work with curiosity. 

“I’ll admit,” Macidus said. “You’ve proven yourself formidable in defeating my swordsman. But you’re a fool if you think that makes you smart enough to take me on.” 

At this, Keith shrugged. Defeating was definitely not what Keith had done, but what Macidus didn’t know couldn’t- or in this case, would hurt him. And though no one could see his face, Keith smirked. 

“I guess that means this will be an easy win for you, then,” he said, the challenge clear in his voice. Macidus scowled for a moment, pondering his options. 

“A battle of wits,” he mused. “And what, exactly, did you have in mind for such a thing?”

Keith was flying by the absolute seat of his pants at this point. But then again, when wasn’t he? He regarded the table set before him, eyes falling on the open bottle of wine and twin goblets. Whatever Macidius’s plan was with this little picnic set-up, perhaps it could be used to his advantage. 

“Pour the wine,” he said. Meanwhile, he reached back into his pocket, pulling a small vial. Macidus hesitated only for a moment, but then set the knife down so that he could obey. Silently, Keith cheered. At least this man’s pride and arrogance was doing him some good in the end. Keith knew all about pressing a person’s buttons, finding the exact way to challenge them and leading them to their ultimate defeat. Even men like Macidus were no different. 

“Smell this,” Keith said, handing the vial over carefully. “But don’t touch it.”

Lance’s eyes followed the vial as they passed it, a familiar curiosity burning in his gaze. Keith wondered how much it must be killing him to be gagged like this. Lance was a talker, after all. When nervous or excited or angry. Being forced into silence while his life was bargained over was a cruel sort of punishment. 

“I smell nothing,” Macidus said, handing the vial back. 

“Olkarian dust,” Keith said, answering the unspoken question. “A deadly poison, as I’m sure you’re aware. Even the smallest dose will kill a man in seconds.” Without waiting for a response, Keith grabbed the two newly filled goblets and turned away. When he turned back, he set them and the now empty vial onto the table. 

“So, one drink is poisoned and the other is not?” Macidus assumed. “And you expect me to guess which one is safe by drinking?” 

It was a gamble, to be sure. Keith had no guarantee that Macidus would drink. Or that we wouldn’t snatch the knife right back and drive it through Lance’s heart. But the spark of a challenge was clear in Macidus’s eyes, and so Keith felt relatively safe in his bet. 

“You must be very clever and very important for them to choose you on this mission,” Keith surmised. “And now you get to prove it. Pick a cup, we both drink, the winner will live and the loser will die. It’s up to you.” It meant removing his mask and revealing his face, but so long as Lance kept his wits about him through the exchange, they could both have a chance to make it out alive.

Macidus slid his eyes down to the two goblets, staring at them as though they might open up and tell them himself which held the poison. They both remained stubbornly silent, so Macidus looked back up at Keith. And he grinned.

“Well, it’s so obvious,” he said. “And the fact that you thought you could fool me of all people just proves your own foolishness.”

“Oh, really?” Keith asked with a grin. Got him. 

“Olkarion powder is a staple trade among pirates such as yourself, so it’s only natural that you’d have it on hand. And while it may be the deadliest among poisons, it hardly takes a genius to know how it works. Nor does it take a genius to know that such frequent exposure to the drug is known to build an immunity in the handler. Both cups are poisoned, so I’d be doomed to die either way.”

Oh. Keith’s grin fell. Maybe Macidus really was smarter than he gave him credit for. At the other man’s growing leer, Keith fumbled for a response. 

Thankfully, he was saved from whatever embarrassing bullshit he might have spewed by a familiar knife lodging itself deep in Macidus’s jugular. The resulting blood spray stained the table and the front of Keith’s suit. He flinched back in surprise, watching as Lance yanked the knife free and scrambled to his feet.

Hands no longer bound, Lance ripped the gag from his face and grinned down at his dying kidnapper. 

“Who’s the smart one now, asshole?” he spat. There was only a pained gurgle in response as Macidus groped weakly at his wound, slumping backwards. Keith could only stare for a moment, stunned by this sudden turn of events. 

Scowling, Lance knelt down to wipe the dirtied blade on the tablecloth and then finally faced Keith. He kept the blade up, as if waiting for an imminent attack. And it wasn’t until Keith saw the uncertain, frightened look on his face that he realized Lance was expecting _him_ to attack. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Keith promised, raiding his hands defensively. Lance only took a step back, jaw tight. “You’re friend, Hunk. He’s hurt badly, but we’re going to get him help. You need to come with me, Lance.” Something in Lance’s expression immediately shifted, though he didn’t lower his guard.

“Hunk’s alive?” he asked, and his voice was pitched with disbelief. 

“He is. And I promised him I was going to bring you safely back. He feels pretty bad for the whole uh… kidnapping thing.” He was still an idiot with words, apparently, but apparently it was the right thing to say because Lance finally relaxed his stance. He kept the knife unsheathed, muscles coiled like he was ready to spring into action at any moment. 

“I’ll go with you to find Hunk,” Lance agreed. “But if you try anything, it’ll be you next.” He gestured to his now dead captor pointedly. And that probably would have been a great moment for Keith to have said ‘ _oh wait, Lance, you don’t wanna kill me! It’s me, Keith. You’re not-dead (ex?) boyfriend! Surprise, I’m alive!_ ’ And really that had been his plan, initially, to reveal himself as soon as the opportunity arose. But his plan never included Lance actually killing a dude, not that Keith could judge. But the whole scene had Keith feeling a little off kilter, and maybe a little terrified of how angry Lance would be at _him_ when he revealed himself. 

And yes, Keith was a trained soldier who had faced certain death more times than he could count, so maybe it was stupid to be terrified of his (ex??????)boyfriend in this context, but fuck it. Keith was nothing if not a master of running from his own feelings, so he could put off the whole big, dramatic reveal for a bit longer. Plus, who was to say that Lance would even care that he was alive? The dude was engaged, for crying out loud. And, from what Keith had been able to see in every public outing, press conference, and royal gathering, very much in love with the sleazeball. Sue Keith for not wanting to face that inevitable rejection when Lance chose the psychotic genocidal maniac that tried to have him murdered. 

Did Lance realize that? Did Lance understand that Lotor had this whole fucking thing arranged? How was Keith gonna break that news to him _and_ the new that Keith himself was also a- okay, no this was too much. These were all problems for future-Keith. Right now he just needed to worry about getting Lance back to Hunk and then ideally somewhere safe and out of sight. Lotor would be upon them soon, he was sure, and he had no desire to hash out any of that drama with him in close proximity. 

Lance turned around, slipping the knife into a holster tucked into the back of his pants. Keith was more than a little surprised to realize that not only did Lance still have Keith’s knife, but he apparently also carried it with him regularly. 

There was a lot about what Lance that didn’t match up, but Keith wasn’t about to push it quite yet. They still had quite the journey ahead of them, so there would be plenty of time to ask for clarification. In the meantime, Keith was going to simply bask in the knowledge that Lance was here in front of him, alive and relatively unharmed. Everything beyond that was just details.

“So, pirate-boy, lead the way.”

Keith hesitated, only because he still didn’t really understand how it all worked. He looked behind him, searching the brush for the droid he’d ordered to stay behind.

“Uh… Rover? You can come out now?” he called, feeling a hell of a lot like an idiot. Still, much to his relief, Rover immediately came zipping out of the bushes and to his side. 

“Woah,” Lance said. “I didn’t know you Blades worked with droids. If you didn’t suck so bad, that might actually be cool.” 

“It’s not mine,” Keith said. “He belongs to Pidge. She said he’ll lead us to a rendezvous point where her and your friend are waiting.” As if understanding his words (which maybe it did? Keith didn’t really get droids), Rover lit up and began flying in another direction, just slow enough for them to follow. 

“Pidge? As in the tiny dude working for Macidus? Pidge is a girl?” Lance’s jaw dropped comically, looking much as if the floor had been ripped out from underneath him. Keith resisted the urge to laugh.

“Uh… Yes? I mean, I think? You can ask all about it when we get there. We just need to get moving fast.” Pidge had never specified any gender preference, but maybe Keith should have asked? 

The droid guided them off of the path and through the rough terrain of steep hills and thick brush. Night fell quickly, and with no moon to dominate the heavens, the stars danced unimpeded against the black sky. It cast the rolling hills of the Balmeran countryside in a dreamlike glow. It reminded Keith too much of that night on the roof with Lance, so long ago. It hurt to remember, if only because he knew that he would never have that happiness again. 

It was a few short hours into their journey that Lance had begun to complain of hunger, and so Keith allowed them a moment to rest while they scoured for anything that seemed safe to eat.

“I should have grabbed some of the food off that table,” Lance groaned as he kicked at a few stray rocks. “I wish Hunk were here. That dude could make a gourmet meal out of leather and sticks.” Keith had been doing a great job at ignoring Lance’s incessant chattering through most of the journey so far, but couldn’t resist a light snort at this particular comment. 

“What the hell was Macidus planning on doing with you, anyways? Serving you up a fancy picnic as your final meal before he murdered you?” he asked. He looked over to Lance, who was crouching in front of a depressingly sparse berry bush. 

“Hell if I know. The guy was crazy. None of it made any sense. I get the whole start a war, blame Balmera thing. But why here? Why bother with the kidnapping and the cliffs and the whole shebang? The guy could have just killed me on my horse right there where they grabbed me, and left it at that. I think he just liked the drama of it all. The more convoluted it was, the more clever he felt.”

Keith had to agree, it all was incredibly ornate for a simple assasination. He pondered this silently, but could not come up with any reasonable explanation. It felt like he was missing something huge and obvious, but what could it be?

“Oh, _fuck_ yes,” cheered Lance, his voice a little more distant than Keith recalled him being before. He looked up, surprised to see Lance had climbed his way up into a large tree and was happily munching on some sort of native fruit. “This is the good stuff. Catch, pirate boy!” He sent one of them in Keith’s direction, but the throw was too sharp and well-aimed to be considered a friendly toss. Keith barely managed to catch it, and though the sharp glare he sent back was well covered by the mask, he had a feeling Lance understood it well enough. Not that he looked the least bit sorry.

“Thanks,” Keith bit out sarcastically. But then he remembered that eating involved _taking off his mask_ and yes that had been the plan a few hours ago, but plans changed! And sure, it would probably be best to just get it over with now because Lance was certain to find out eventually. But once again, fear had him hesitating. Fear of what, though? Lance’s rejection? Anger? It would be well deserved, and nothing far off from what Keith had been directing towards himself for the last five years. And yet, he still couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

He just needed time, that was all. Lance seemed to notice his hesitation, however, and frowned.

“They’re safe to eat, my guy.” He took another bite, and then spoke around the fruit as he chewed. “Promise!”

Keith scowled at his own stupidity, tossing the fruit back in Lance’s direction. It fell short, splatting against the trunk of the tree lamely. Whatever. 

“I’m not hungry. We need to keep moving. Now get down before I drag you down myself.”

Whatever casual humor Lance had been trying to maintain quickly fell away. He took one final bite, tossed the core of the fruit away, and shimmied his way back down the tree.

“Listen, I get that you’re trying real hard to stick to the whole evil murder-y pirate thing, but you really need to lighten up. Being a sourpuss won’t get you anywhere in life.”

And the bait was there, so easy and familiar that Keith couldn’t help rising to it. 

“Just because you’re used to a whole country fawning over you, _Highness_ , that doesn’t mean you should expect it from me. Being a spoiled, glorified piece of arm candy will only get you so far.” It was a low blow, but it seemed like exactly the kind of reaction that Lance had been fishing for. His chest puffed up, cheeks flushing an angry shade of pink. Keith felt his own body respond in kind out of sheer instinct. 

“If you think that’s all that I am, you haven’t been paying attention. You don’t know anything about me. Meanwhile, I know everything I need to know about you. All of you pirates are the same. Destroying everything in your path, taking what you want and running. Not caring about the lives you leave ruined in your wake. Do you ever think about all the blood you have on your hands, Blade Boy? Ever think about what you leave behind while you run off on your stupid, glorified little adventures?”

The taunt hit far too close to home, and so to counter his instinct of flinching Keith got even closer until his mask was only inches from Lance’s face.

“And what about you, Highness? Do you ever think about the lives your precious fiance ruined? All the lives that the Galra have taken in his name, at his command? You talk about blood on your hands while you sit complacent at the side of the galaxy’s most infamous murderer! Tell me, how long after the war did you wait to jump into his bed? Did you even wait for Earth to finish burning or did you let him take you right there, standing over the graves of everyone you ever claimed to love?”

It was so sudden that Keith couldn’t have had time to stop it from happening. Lance let out a wordless cry, grabbing Keith by the edge of his breastplate and slamming him against the nearest tree. One arm came up to trap itself against his throat, effectively cutting off his airflow. 

“You don’t get to say a damn _word_ about the people I’ve loved! Everything I do is for the people I’ve loved!” Lance spat out, pressing so hard that for a moment Keith was sure he meant to kill him. He struggled against the taller man’s hold, hands grappling for freedom. But it was half-hearted, his own surprise weakening his efforts. This was the closest Lance had been to him in five years, and that was such a stupid thought to get stuck on, but here he was. “I held the greatest, strongest love in my hands and you bastards took him from me so don’t you dare pretend to preach to me. You’re lucky I have a greater enemy or I’d be spending the rest of my years seeing your ships burn across the cosmos for what you took from me.”

There was an unmistakable promise in his eyes, one that spoke to years of pain and heartache that Keith recognized all too well. The same kind of suffering he saw reflected back at him every day in the mirror. All these years he’d prayed that somehow, despite everything, Lance might have been spared the same kind of misery Keith himself had gone through. Clearly, his hopes had all been in vain.

He stopped struggling, hands falling limp to his sides as he stared up at his former lover. At the only man he’d ever love. And then he looked down at Lance’s injured shoulder, where a fresh stain of blood was quickly blossoming.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, rather dumbly. This was obviously not the response Lance had been expecting. He looked down at his own shoulder, back up at Keith, and then shoved himself away with a scoff. 

“Yeah, no shit. Got stabbed, my dude. I’m fine, I must have re-opened it climbing the tree,” he muttered. He tore off the sleeve of his very expensive tunic and pressed it firmly against the wound. “It’s whatever. I’ve had worse.”

“Where does a prince have time to get fucked up worse than this?” Keith had to ask, because the sight of Lance bleeding was an upsetting one, and the thought of anything worse was downright horrific. 

“Well, as you so kindly reminded me not so long ago, I wasn’t always a prince. War fucks you up, y’know? Must be nice for you pirate bastards, getting to sit all this shit out while you keep on reigning your own special brand of terror across the stars.” The bitterness in his voice was prevalent even now, though somewhat subdued. Keith sighed, reaching into his utility belt and pulling out a small vial. Lance took a step back, glaring at the proffered item with distrust. 

“It’s not poison,” Keith sighed. “It’s to help the bleeding. It stings like a bitch, but it’ll keep you from leaving behind a nice little blood trail for someone to follow.” When Lance still didn’t move to take it, Keith gave an irritated huff. “If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you hours ago. Just take the damn medicine, Lance.” And when that didn’t spur him into action, Keith growled and moved closer, yanking the prince’s torn shirt away from the wound. Lance barely had time to utter a protest before Keith was pouring the unstoppered vial right over the injury. 

It was a thick, viscous liquid that slid down over the open wound and hissed animatedly as it made contact with fevered skin. Immediately, Lance was flinching back and letting out a pained shout, but Keith didn’t let him go until the entire bottle was empty. And even then, he made sure to snatch the torn and bloodied sleeves from Lance’s hand, pressing them back over the wound firmly but gently.

“That fucking _hurts_!” Lance told him, slapping his hands away to take over. “What the hell is in that stuff?”

“Believe me, you’re better off not knowing. We’ve screwed around long enough. Let’s keep moving.” Keith bodily turned Lance, shoving him back in the direction that they needed to go.

“Holy quiznack, I’m going! What the hell is the rush, dude? Got a hot date or something?” 

“Lotor is no doubt on our trail,” Keith shot back. “Besides, I doubt your friend and Pidge were the only people Macidus was working with. Whenever he was done staging your murder, he planned on having someone stumbling along to find your corpse, if not Lotor himself. And when they find Macidus instead of you, they’ll know that the mission failed.”

Lance, ever the chatterbox, did not have a response to that for several long, blessedly silent minutes. 

“Okay, but you stole that sigil that was supposed to clue people in about me being taken here, right? As far as anyone is concerned, I could be anywhere right now. So that buys us some time, right?” There was an odd quality to Lance’s voice as he asked, almost like he was testing his knowledge. Which was stupid, because Lance was clearly the moron in this situation. 

Keith thought of Lotor, no doubt following close behind with his entourage, fully expecting to find his fiance’s corpse and blame the Balmerans. The perfect motive for war, if only it had worked. Keith wouldn’t be surprised if Lotor had already found Macidus in his place. 

“It’s not a chance I’m willing to take,” was all Keith said on the matter. “C’mon, we need to keep moving. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can rest.”

He ignored Lance’s protests as they continued on, pausing only to admire the familiar constellations that illuminated his path.

* * *

They came across Hunk and Pidge at the edge of a massive forest. Pidge had Hunk leaning against the trunk of a tree while tending to his wounds, which weren’t pretty. But Hunk was upright and talking, which Lance took as a good sign. He rushed to his once best friend’s side.

“Lance!” Hunk cried out in relief. “Thank god you’re okay!” 

“Course I’m okay. That son of a bitch had no idea what hit him,” Lance dismissed with a laugh. “You’re not looking too hot, though, buddy.” Pidge had raised Hunk’s shirt to have access to the wound, and had cleaned and bandaged it pretty well. But it was obvious that the pain and blood loss had taken its toll. Hunk’s skin was sallow and clammy, and his eyes seemed to have a hard time focusing. That was something Lance could relate to - the blow Macidus had delivered to his own head still throbbed painfully, though thankfully was not severe enough for a concussion. 

“Yeah, well, you’ve never looked better. The royal life suits you,” Hunk teased. “They let you bring all your crazy skin care products into that castle?” Lance laughed, though he felt dangerously close to crying. How could they have ever doubted each other? It had been so many years, and yet talking to Hunk now felt like nothing had really changed.

“They’d have to pry them from my cold dead hands. Are you feeling alright? Is this kid taking good care of you?” He turned his attention to Pidge, who had been busy reuniting with their droid. They looked up when Lance mentioned them, giving a scowl.

“I’m not a ‘kid’,” they shot back. “And I took care of him just fine. We just need to get him somewhere where he can properly rest for a few days. Now that you guys are finally here, we can get moving.”

“We would have been here a lot sooner if _someone_ hadn’t wasted so much time stopping for snacks,” the pirate said, arms folded stubbornly. Lance felt a familiar heat rising in his chest. He rose back up to his feet.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was only just _kidnapped_ and held against my will without food or water for two days straight. My bad,” he sneered sarcastically. He could not see the pirate’s face, but recognized the way his shoulders rose that he was preparing another scathing comeback.

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Hunk said, now also beginning to pull himself to his feet. “Before we go anywhere else, I’ve gotta know. Who the _hell_ are you anyways? Why are you here?”

“He’s a member of the Blade of Marmora,” Pidge answered for him. ““Blade Boy here says he was hired to steal the prince away for himself. Someone very powerful wants to get you very far from Lotor, highness. Strange, for someone who was just a simple country boy a few years ago. You have the attention of a lot of powerful people.”

That was the understatement of the century. Lance tried settling his features into something less defensive as he faced the pirate again.

“It’s my charming good looks,” he deflected easily. “So, what’s the plan, Blade Boy? Bring me to your boss and use me as ransom against the throne? Tie me up and torture me for information on trade routes so you can attack more innocent merchant ships?”  
“You’re not going to be tortured or ransomed,” the pirate replied. “My job is to keep you safe, trust me.”

“Trust _you_?” Lance scoffed. “Fat chance of that. You can forget whatever your plans are. I agreed to follow you to Hunk because I wanted to make sure my friend was okay. But I’m not going anywhere else with you.”

The pirate clenched his fists, stance widening as if preparing for a fight. Lance found a deep, twisted pleasure in seeing the effect he had on him. It felt like its own sort of victory, knowing that he could get him all riled up like this.

“You’ve just been kidnapped and almost murdered! And just because you got away this time, that doesn’t mean they’re going to just stop hunting you! We can protect you!”

Pidge and Hunk were watching the exchange with rapt attention, and something about their gazes during this argument had Lance’s skin crawling, like parts of him were being peeled away and revealed for the casual observer. Wounds that he’s spent years trying to heal. But he wasn’t going to back down. He stepped closer to the pirate, smirking cruelly. 

“And run away from my charming, handsome fiance? Why would I want to do that? Besides, I can handle myself just fine, thanks.”

“What don’t you get? I’m sure you’re eager to jump back into his nasty, greasy-haired arms or whatever-”

“His greasy-haired _what_?”

“But didn’t you hear Macidus? He all but spelled it out for you - he’s _working_ for Lotor! Lotor is the one who wants you dead! He’ll kill you if you go back to him, dammit!” And this wasn’t news to Lance, but clearly the pirate expected it to be. Everyone always loved underestimating Lance’s observational skills, but he wasn’t an idiot.

“Lance, I hate to agree with the strange masked pirate guy, but he’s right. If Lotor is really the one behind this, and you go back to him, he might just try killing you again,” Hunk protested.

“He won’t,” Lance dismissed. “Probably. Look, I appreciate the save and all, but trust me when I can say I can _handle_ Lotor.” And it was hard, because he understood why they were concerned, but Lance couldn’t exactly just _tell_ them the truth, could he? He wanted to, so badly. But what if it just put them in more danger?

And because the pirate was an expert instigator, he shot in with a new cruel remark that shredded the last of Lance’s patience. 

“God, do you hear yourself? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were actually in love with the guy. Lotor is _insane_ , Lance. You can’t fool him or change him or-” Lance cut him off by stepping dangerously close to his bubble, jabbing a finger at his chest plate. 

“And if _I_ didn’t know any better, I’d say you sounded jealous!” he cried out. And fuck, his eyes were burning but he wasn’t going to cry. “But that’d be crazy, right? What possible reason could you, a strange and random pirate with absolutely no relation to me, have anything to be jealous about?” 

This, miraculously, seemed to stun the pirate into a brief lapse of silence. Lance couldn’t see it, but he could imagine the dumbstruck look on his face right now. 

“Lance-” he started, voice strangled. But Lance took a large step back, shaking his head. 

“Save it, man.”

“Wait, wait, hold on!” Hunk said. “You guys _know_ each other?” Pidge only looked slightly shocked by this revelation, though something about their expression told Lance they were filing this information away for later use. 

“That depends. Are you going to take the mask off? Or did you plan on hiding yourself for another five years, _Keith_?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, just a heads up, in this chapter I actually try to address Pidge's gender. I'm just gonna say upfront in this story that Pidge is on the spectrum of being nb/gender fluid and as a cis female I tried my best to write out this scene in a way that was respectful, understandable, and also just all around a decent representation but please PLEASE tell me if you feel like I wrote it in any way that feels wrong or offensive.

Hunk is the first one to react. His hands flew to his face, jaw dropping comically. 

“Wait,  _ Keith _ ? As in your Keith? But you told me he died!” he cried out. Lance didn’t answer, because he couldn’t. Keeping himself together had been a careful balancing act of piling one broken piece on top of another, and one wrong move could send it all toppling down. 

It took the pirate - it took _Keith_ - a heavy few seconds before he slowly reached up, lowering his hood. With it, the mask vanished like a hologram, as if it had never been there in the first place. And here he was. Keith Kogane, in the flesh. Perfect in all of the ways that memory could never replicate, and different in ways that only five long years could accomplish. He looked older, a little more grizzled, his hair still a mullet but falling a little longer and somehow even prettier than before. His jaw had sharpened, and looked even more impressive when paired with the long purple scar that ran up one side. (A desperate, long-buried part of Lance longed to run his fingers along the path of marred skin, map it out until it became as familiar as the rest of him. To press his lips against it and relearn the taste.) He was beautiful and alive and more real than Lance could have prepared for. 

Even knowing who it was under that mask, seeing it for himself was a shock to the senses. It was a relief, of course, because it meant that Lance wasn’t crazy. And, most importantly, it meant that Keith was alive. A fact that Lance had never dared dream of or hope for in five years, despite wanting it more than anything. And even with the rage and betrayal that coursed through him, Lance’s heart sang with a deep and private joy. He very firmly and resolutely ignored that sensation because he had absolutely no clue what to do with it. 

“What gave it away?” Keith asked. His voice was raspier, as though the words had been strangled out of him. Aside from looking older and all around hotter, Lance noticed that he also looked guilt-ridden. Which was good, because he should feel bad! He focused on that indignant, righteous anger. It was much more familiar, and easier to navigate in this strange setting. 

“You think I wouldn’t recognize your voice? Coming from a guy dressed as one of the pirates that supposedly killed you, it’s not hard to figure out. I’m not an idiot, despite what you seem to think,” he said. 

Keith scoffed, and Lance recognized by the tightening of his shoulders that his defenses were quickly raising. And much like Lance, Keith’s favorite defense was a good offense. 

“Could have fooled me. You’re marrying  _ Lotor _ . That’s about as stupid as it gets. He framed my brother to start a war!” 

“You think I don’t know what Lotor has done? I know better than anyone, Keith. Then again, I bet you know a lot about liars, considering you are one! You’ve been lying this whole time! I didn’t want to believe it at first. Kept looking for clues to prove that I was wrong but- why didn’t you just tell me right away? Five minutes ago, five hours ago, fuck Keith! Why didn’t you tell me five years ago? Why let me believe you were dead this whole fucking time?” Lance shot back. Keith rocked back as if stricken. He opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t seem to know what to say. Pidge seized the opportunity, to cut in between them, her tiny form a surprisingly effective barrier between the two men. 

“Hey, guys. Not that this isn’t  _ super entertaining _ ,” they said, and really sounded like they meant it, too. “And raising a huge amount of questions that I too would like answered. Very much so. But we need to keep moving if we want to get Hunk help before Lotor finds us.” Their expression brokered absolutely no room for argument. Lance whipped back around to face Hunk, fresh guilt quickly abating his anger for the time being. 

“Oh, shit, dude, I’m so sorry. We’ve definitely got to get you somewhere safe,” he said. Hunk, who had spent the whole time leaning against the tree and watching with rapt attention, gave a dismissive wave. And then winced when the move pulled at his injuries.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “We’re already not far from our destination. Now that we’ve got Rover with us, we’ll have no problem finding a safe path through the forest.” He pointed to the massive woods behind him. Rover chirped as though recognizing his name, hovering with a sort of dancing motion that Lance could only describe as ‘excited’. He’d similarly designed droids often enough in the palace (though they were less common since Lotor’s rise in power) but none of them had ever shown such personality before. It was charming, if a little unsettling. 

“Wait, you mean the Crystal Forest? We’re going in there?” Keith asked, pointing. And now that Lance was paying attention, he realized that that’s exactly where they were at. Like the cliffs, the Balmeran Crystal forest was something of a legend. The entire planet was quite the enigma, really, and these woods were just one of its many bizarre features. While technology had no genuine issue functioning in or around it, the forest was strangely impossible to map, and was rumored to be an incredible source of mystical energy. 

Travellers were often lost and never heard from again after setting foot in the woods. Survivors often told wild tales of strange and impossible beasts that roamed, preying on the souls of any who crossed their paths. The energy crystals, which Balmera was most well known for, grew in abundance not just from the earth but from the trees as well, and though Lance had only heard snippets of tales some even said they spoke. 

Before meeting Allura, Lance would have dismissed it all as silly stories told to scare children. Now, though, he knew better. Still, he’d learned long ago that a healthy amount of skepticism was always necessary where rumors were involved - Allura herself was a prime example of that. A princess long rumored to be dead, alive and fighting against the empire that destroyed her home. Yeah, Lance had definitely learned not to believe everything he heard.

Besides, he was certain whatever waited for them in those woods, they could handle. 

Keith must have missed that memo, because he looked decidedly anxious at the thought of it. Not in any sort of obvious way that a stranger could pick up on, but Lance could see it. The corners of his mouth turned downward at a very specific angle, left brow twitching upward periodically while looking otherwise stoic and totally indifferent. He was worried. 

“What’s that matter, Keith? Don’t tell me the big bad pirate is afraid of a dark walk through the creepy magic woods,” Lance teased, because he just couldn’t help himself. And maybe a challenge was what Keith needed, because that worry was quickly replaced with stubborn determination. 

“Don’t be stupid, of course not. Even if the rumors are true, I’m not worried. I just don’t get why we’d need to go that way in the first place. All we need to do is get to the coast and I can call us reinforcements and a shuttle off this planet.”

Pidge, who had plucked Rover from the air and was now fiddling with something on his base, spoke up.

“Oh, the rumors are all true,” they said without looking up from their work. “Or, well, most of them. But don’t worry about it, we’ve got a secret path we can take. We have a contact that lives deep in the forest. They’ll be able to house us and help keep us hidden from the Galra while we recover and figure out our next move.”

“I just said-”

“Yeah, no offense Keith, but I absolutely do  _ not  _ have any intentions of getting on a Blade ship any time soon. I’ve got no problem working with them, but it’ll be on my terms, got it?” They made a small noise of triumph as a tiny chamber on Rover’s base opened up. Lance couldn’t see whatever was inside, as they quickly grabbed it and stuffed it into their pockets. “Alright, time to move. While we’re in the woods, you guys need to stay close to me and Hunk. No matter what you see or hear, got it?” 

They looked between the two men patiently, clearly expecting some sort of argument. And maybe Keith might have given one, but Lance wasn’t about to allow that. He absolutely agreed with Pidge’s sentiment towards boarding any Blade ship, and was especially curious to find out what kind of contact they had waiting for them. Did this mean that they’d planned on ending up here from the beginning? They were clearly no true friend of Macidus, but Lance still couldn’t understand how they’d all become so twisted up in this to begin with. He had to find out. Whatever the case, he was certain Allura would be interested.

“You’ve got it, my dude,” Lance agreed quickly, already moving to take some of Hunk’s weight and act as a crutch. “Stay close, ignore the creepy voices. I can totally do that. Blade Boy on the other hand has a hard time sticking around, so you’ll want to keep a close eye on him.”

Whatever argument Keith might have had was lost as they quickly, carefully stepped past the tree line and into the Crystal Forest.

* * *

_ It had been a hard call, passing baby Rachel onto an Altean soldier before they approached the shack. Lance hadn’t wanted her out of his sight for even a second. But the last thing he wanted was to carry a toddler through a battlefield, and the Altean could get her on the shuttle first. At least then, if the rest of them didn’t make it, Rachel would be safe.  _

_ Getting to the shack was easier than the run to the barn, and though Lance was still terrified he found he was becoming disturbingly comfortable with the feeling of the blaster hot and humming in his hands after each shot fired. There was something sickening but satisfying about watching an enemy fall, knowing that while one life had been lost, you at least had another few seconds to keep breathing. Lance took no pride in it, and was certain it would haunt him later. For now, at least, he tucked it away and focused on his mission of getting his family out alive. _

_ When they opened the door to the shack, Lance was nearly met with the unforgiving metal of a frying pan. It was only at the last second that Mama recognized him, her weapon dropping as she gave an exclamation of relief.  _

_ The entire shack was in shambles, furniture and clothes tossed in every direction. The wardrobe doors had been torn from their hinges, and splintered wood littered the floor. Pictures and keepsakes collected over the years had been ripped or crushed or shattered beyond recognition. Everything that Lance had kept so carefully in place to preserve Keith’s memory, destroyed. He looked away from it all and focused on his mother.  _

_ “Oh, Lance, thank the stars!” she cried. “Where’s Rachel? Did you find her?”  _

_ “She’s fine, Mama,” Lance promised. “The Alteans have a shuttle and she’s already safely on board. They can only hold off the Galra for so much longer, so we have to go now. They’re gonna get us out of here and somewhere safe, okay?”  _

_ Mama stepped closer to him, her free hand fluttering anxiously around Lance’s injuries. Lance could see her warring with the decision - to leave their home would mean staying alive, but it was also a great loss that felt impossible to comprehend. They’d be leaving their entire lives behind, and any fragile hope they might have still had at Papa returning home to them. But Mama was a practical woman, and eventually her features settled into grim determination.  _

_ “Then we’d better go now. C’mon, kids, you heard your brother.” From behind Lance’s overturned bed, the twins crawled out into the open. They were both clinging to each other, faces wet with silent tears. It shattered Lance’s heart, to see them so frightened. To have known so much loss and suffering at such a young age was something no one should ever have to go through. And no one, Lance privately and selfishly thought, deserved it less than his siblings.  _

_ Knowing that their short legs would never keep up with the pace they needed to keep, Lance picked up Marco while Mama hefted Veronica onto her back. This time, when they stepped outside, the two Alteans that had been covering the shack ran with them while Matt took the lead.  _

_ Lance’s family had built their farm on the crest of a large hill overlooking rows and rows of fields in the north and west. To the east was a road that led to town, which was either blissfully unaware of their plight or facing similar destruction from the Galra. To the south, from the base of the hill and onward as far as the eye could see, there were only trees. It was not a particularly dense forest, which meant there was just enough room to safely land a shuttle without obstacles while still keeping it hidden from view. (On the other side of them Lance knew was a beach, which had once been his favorite place in the world; he tried very hard not to think about the fact that he may never see it again.) _

_ As soon as they were within the cover of the trees, the twins were set back down and told to run as quickly as they could after the Alteans that guided them. In his injured state, Lance lacked the strength to carry Marco, and Mama’s own energies were failing her. At least here they did not have to worry about any stray shots coming their way as more Alteans took the rear to protect them from any pursuing Galra.  _

_ The shuttle came into sight. It was sleek and white, though based on its weathered hull it had certainly seen better days. It was also surprisingly small for the number of Alteans, and Lance mentally prepared for a tight squeeze during their travels. And with this beacon of possibility right before him, Lance felt the first light of hope foolishly build in his chest. They were going to make it. They were going to be okay. They were going into space! Certainly not at all in any way that Lance might have hoped to achieve his dream of traveling the stars, but it was certainly a bright side to all of this horror.  _

_ And really, he should have known better to harbor such confidence or idealism, because that was always when things went wrong. And this time, when they went wrong it was downright catastrophic.  _

_ It began with Sendak, bursting from the foliage at their flank and firing wildly in their direction. He ran right for Lance, and there was nothing any of them could have done to stop him. A ferocious beast charging at its prey with no precision, only the untamable desire to kill. The force of his collision, in Lance’s humble opinion, was likely not too dissimilar from what it felt like to have a brick wall rise up and come at you with all of the speed of a jet plane. There was a distinct crack as they landed, paired with a blinding pain in his left arm - it was almost certainly broken.  _

_ Sendak must have been more furious than calculating in his attack, because while Lance had dropped his blaster he still had Keith’s knife. It was instinctual, lifting up the blade and slashing blindly at the face of his attacker. And it was pure luck that Sendak had been caught off guard by this, because it landed solidly in the Galra’s right eye. It took more force and strength than Lance had expected a knife would need to cut flesh, even with a blade so fine, and so it did not go deep. But it was enough that when the Galra cried out in pain, blood splattering hot and violet across the both of them, Lance was able to shove him off to the side.  _

_ Someone was screaming, and then more voices began yelling as Lance pulled the knife free and climbed unsteadily to his feet. When he looked behind him, he realized that Mama had fallen over, and Matt was gathering her quickly into his arms.  _

_ “Keep moving! Don’t stop!” he cried out to Lance, who was still functioning on pure adrenaline and survival instincts. He did not question the order, even as a small part of him wondered why Mama needed to be carried in the first place. Marco and Veronica had frozen on the path before him to watch the horrible scene, but Lance knew Sendak wouldn’t be down for long. He only had one good arm, and it currently held Keith’s knife, so he could only shout at them to spring them back into motion. Thankfully, they listened.  _

_ The shuttle doors were already open, Altean soldiers ushering them quickly inside. As soon as the last of them, Matt and Mama included, were all on board, the door closed with a loud hiss. There was a quick warning for them to all ‘Hold on!’ before the ship very suddenly and violently lurched. Lance made the mistake of trying to grab onto something with his injured arm, the pain so sharp that his vision momentarily whited out and he dropped his weapon. By the time his senses returned to him, he was on the ground with unfamiliar alien faces crowded around him. _

_ “Romelle! Get over here now!” Matt was shouting, somewhere deeper in the crowd. And as Lance was carefully guided back to his feet, he realized a few things. 1. The Altean shuttle was much larger than it appeared. In fact, it was so much larger on the inside that Lance was having a very hard time comprehending it. And 2. Matt was still carrying Mama in his arms, and though her eyes were open, she was not moving.  _

* * *

The second they crossed over the threshold and into the woods, Lance had gone suddenly and mysteriously silent. Keith watched the way his shoulders pulled back, his grip around Hunk flexing and twitching periodically. He supported Hunk while walking without any obvious trouble, which was an impressive feat given Hunk’s size and Lance’s wound, but even Hunk was shooting Lance concerned looks here and there.

“Hey, buddy, you alright?” Hunk asked. But Lance hardly seemed to be paying attention. His steps were slow and uncertain, wide gaze sweeping through the trees above them. The infamous crystals that grew along the trees cast an eerie glow across his features, making his eyes appear far brighter and gave them an almost greenish hue. It was an eerie sight, to be sure.  __

When Lance didn’t reply, Keith matched his pace and reached out to touch his elbow. The tiny ghost of contact seemed to shock Lance out of his reverie, and he stopped short, finally looking at Keith. He stared at him as if seeing him for the first time, and it sent chills down his back. Lance jerked his arm away, and Keith curled his fingers inward as if to try and trap the memory of his warmth. 

“They’re talking,” Lance said, his voice barely above a whisper. The words sent a chill down Keith’s spine. “The trees… The crystals. I can hear them.” 

Lance used to mock Keith for his obsession with this kind of shit, and had never seemed the type to put any stock into any of it. But this did not feel like any of the teasing that Keith was used to. And while he knew Lance loved his pranks, this was certainly not one of them.

Though Keith himself felt totally normal so far (other than a faint prickle at the base of his neck, as though someone were watching him), he firmly believed that Lance was experiencing something else entirely. 

“Okay,” he said, nodding slowly. “And what are they saying?” 

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” Lance said, shaking his head. He blinked a few times, some clarity finally returning to his expression. “Sorry, I don’t… This place is really freaking me out. Do we really have to go this way? Can’t we just… go around or something?” 

It was a little shocking of a request, considering Lance’s confidence just moments before. Keith looked over to Hunk and Pidge for some sort of guidance. Whatever Lance was experiencing seemed to be unique only to him, because they both looked totally normal. 

“I wasn’t kidding about those rumors being true,” Pidge said, though they also had some concern etched into their features. “But whatever you’re hearing, Lance, you’ve got to ignore it. Just keep walking, okay? We’ll be there soon enough.”

Lance shook his head, eyes closing for a moment as if trying to dispel the voices. When he opened them again, he settled his expression back into something more confident and familiar. 

“Man, this place is freaaaky,” he said with forced humor. “Hunk, man, how do you stand this?” He started walking again, this time as quickly as he could without jostling Hunk too much.

“It wasn’t great the first time for me either, but you get used to it over time,” Hunk explained. “It helps having a Balmeran with you, because they’ve got a natural resistance to it. Shay explained to me that it’s the forest’s way of trying to ward off outsiders. A long time ago, the forest used to be mined all of the time for crystals by off-worlders looking for more energy sources. But when they started taking too much, the forest started fighting back. And it never really stopped, I guess.”

“Wicked. Man, I love Earth, but we are really lacking on the cool and mystical landmarks compared to places like this,” Lance observed. 

“Uh, Earth has  _ plenty  _ of mystical landmarks,” Keith interjected. Lance rolled his eyes.

“Oh, boy, here we go,” he said predictably, though it lacked any of the usual playfulness that Keith craved. This felt more like Lance from the early days, when he genuinely seemed to hate Keith’s guts. Then again, Keith reasoned, this time Lance had more justification than ever to feel that way. It hurt to consider, so he tried very hard not to. 

“No, Keith’s totally right actually,” Pidge said. “There’s Stonehenge, of course. Devil’s Bridge. The Bermuda Triangle. Before first contact a hundred years ago, everyone  _ swore  _ Area 51 was just a conspiracy. There’s-” Keith had not met anyone else in a long time, especially a human, who actually believed in this sort of stuff. Ever since first contact, most humans lost all interest in the mysticism of Earth, turning all of their attention to space. And not that Keith, didn’t totally love space but there was still so much happening on Earth for them to learn about!

Lance, ever the critic, did not allow Pidge to continue.

“Yeah, no, please don’t encourage him,” he begged. “I’ve already got one round of crazy voices in my head and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add to it.” 

Pidge and Keith exchanged long-suffering stares. 

“We’ll come back to it,” Pidge promised, and Keith nodded eagerly. Lance rolled his eyes, and Hunk huffed out a pained laugh.

“Man, figures you two would get along so well,” he said. “You’re both crazy conspiracy theorists. That makes sense.” He said it like it was a common, well-known fact.

Keith hadn’t known that Hunk had been aware of that particular interest of his, but maybe Lance had mentioned it back in the day in one of their many letters. He had been well aware that Lance loved complaining about him to Hunk, but had never been able to find out how in depth those complaints really went. 

As they progressed further into the forest, Lance still sometimes went into odd bought of silence as whatever voices plaguing him got louder. It became a routine, jolting him out of it with some question or comment from Hunk or a playful challenge from Keith. It worked like a charm every time, although sometimes too well. Lance’s anger towards Keith had not subsided, and every word from him only served to bring it closer to the surface. But Keith would take an angry Lance over a spaced out, frightened Lance any day. 

“Hey, Pidge,” Lance shot out at one point. “Not to be like, totally nosy or whatever, but I hope you don’t mind me asking your pronouns? It’s just, Macidus kept calling you a boy, but Keith said you were a girl. And you’ve totally got those ‘fuck gender stereotypes’ vibe going, and I don’t wanna misgender you and all.”

Pidge looked surprised at the question, but not in the least bit offended. In fact, they almost looked pleased.

“Gender is a hoax, true. Keith’s not wrong, I am a girl. But also sometimes situations, like the one with Macidus, require me being a boy. And sometimes that’s just what feels right. Other times, neither of them feel right or I feel like something a little bit in-between. Honestly, any pronoun is fine as long as you don’t treat me any differently. I’m just Pidge.”

Lance grinned. “Right on, I can respect that,” he said with a nod. 

They must have been walking for nearly an hour before the trees began to thin out, and that prickle at the back of Keith’s neck subsided. And then they were stepping into a massive clearing. Large, black stones the size of Keith’s head were lined up at the edge of the clearing, and as soon as they stepped over them the tension immediately left Lance’s body.

Standing in the very center of a clearing was a charming little cottage, surrounded by a lush and well-tended garden. It was such an oddly normal sight and so far from Keith’s expectations when Pidge had mentioned a ‘contact’. Even more startling was the small, wrinkled old Balmeran woman waiting for them on the porch.

“Oh dear,” the old woman said, shaking her head in dismay. “You’d better get him inside. I did tell you to be careful, didn’t I, Hunk?” 

“It’s not like I  _ asked  _ to get stabbed, Grandma,” Hunk protested. Lance helped him up the two short stairs and onto the porch. “The guy was gonna kill Lance! I had to do something!” 

“Oh it’s not me you need to explain yourself, too,” Grandma sighed, opening the front door. “Shay is going to be  _ very  _ disappointed in all of you.”

* * *

Lance had always hoped to one day meet the woman who had stolen his best friend's heart, but he’d certainly imagined it under some very different circumstances. For one thing, Hunk wasn’t supposed to be half-conscious in the back room while Shay tended to his wounds. He also hadn’t counted on his own wounds finally catching up to him, on top of the stress from whatever the hell  _ that  _ had been back in the woods. His knees were weak, and Lance had reached the point where he was far less interested in any introductions and far more interested in spreading out across the very comfortable looking couch a few feet away. 

Grandma, as she had introduced herself, had given the three of them water, some warm stew, and firm orders to make themselves comfortable before heading off to bed. She’d left them with a trail of mutters about being ‘too old for this nonsense’ and a very awkward silence in her wake. 

“You should sit down,” Keith said, as though reading his mind. And maybe he was. He always had a knack for knowing what Lance was thinking, and mind-reading had been one of Lance’s many theories about Keith back in the day. To test it out, Lance thought a few very unkind thoughts Keith’s way. Except his brain-to-mouth filter had apparently broken some time ago, because those thoughts ended up escaping from his mouth instead.

“You’re a huge jerk, and I don’t like your face.” 

Keith gave him a deadpan expression, pushing him none too gently to the couch. Lance was too weak, physically, to fight it. Emotionally, though, he was still riled up and ready to go so he made sure to let out a few more insults on the way down. The plush cushions accepted him with love, and Lance sank into them with a groan of relief.

“Pidge swears that the Galra won’t have any hope of finding this place, so we’ve got plenty of time to recover while we figure out our next move,” Keith told him, as though Lance had never spoken in the first place. “You should get some rest.”

“Your face should get some rest,” Lance snarked back weakly, because he had to make sure Keith knew he was still mad at him. “You can’t tell me what to do. I’m a  _ prince _ . Or, at least, I will be soon. I dunno, they kinda gave me the title prematurely even though I’m not married yet. I’ve got no idea what that’s about. There was paperwork and everything. Galra traditions are dumb as hell.”

“You can tell me all about dumb Galra traditions later.  _ After  _ you get some rest,” Keith insisted. Lance’s mouth opened to retort, but what came out instead was a long, jaw-cracking yawn. A ghost of a smile flashed across Keith’s face before he seemed to remember himself. But Lance caught that brief flash, and his chest flared with something red-hot and dangerous. He hadn’t seen Keith smile in five years. It was like catching a glimpse of the sun for the first time after years spent underground. It was lucky that Lance was so tired, or he might have done something stupid just for a chance to coax a full one out of him. 

As it was, he was having a hard time remembering why he was so angry in the first place. Sleeping sounded far better than contemplating emotions, as far as Lance was concerned. But sleep could never hope to have a claim on him when Hunk was here, just a few feet away and so severely wounded. The adrenaline and necessity had kept him soldiering on bravely up to this point, but Lance could tell that he was still very much in the danger zone. For all of his exhaustion, the worry had far more power over him.

Besides, Lance hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Keith that he’d been through worse. Emotional roller coaster aside, this was nothing compared to the days spent running on ration bars and two hours of sleep while dragging Matt’s half-conscious body through a war-torn countryside. 

Everyone loved to remind Lance that before being a Prince he’d been just a farm boy, but most of them failed to realize that between the two he’d also been a soldier. 

“I’m fine,” Lance muttered, waving Keith away. “You’re the one who scaled up the Cliffs of Insanity and god his ass beat by a fourteen year old.”

“Pidge is like twenty, and also cheated,” Keith replied. “It’s not my fault she fights dirty.” 

Said cheater, who had been tinkering with Rover on the other side of the room, shot them a haughty grin.

“Sounds like someone’s a sore loser,” she said. “If you want a rematch, Blade Boy, just say so. I’ll happily give you one. Just don’t come crying to me when I kick your ass  _ again _ .”

Something about her, especially now that Lance was seeing her more as  _ Pidge  _ and not just  _ kidnapper  _ was so disturbingly familiar. Knowing now that she wasn’t just a scrawny fifteen year old boy that Macidus had plucked off the streets made her easier to comprehend, in some way, but not enough. The sight of her hunched over a droid, tools in hand and tongue between her teeth as she focused, plucked angrily at Lance’s memory. But he just couldn’t place the image. 

Shay stepped back into the room, wiping the blood from her hands with a damp rag. She looked tired, but triumphant.

“Hunk is resting now, but he’ll be fine. The blade missed any internal organs, and Pidge’s dressing in the field kept him from losing too much blood. As long as we keep the wound clean to avoid infection, he’ll be up and walking within the next week or so. But he’ll still have to avoid any strenuous physical activity for a good while. I hope whatever you folks are plotting will keep him  _ off  _ of the battlefield this time,” she said, giving Pidge a very pointed look. Pidge had the grace to at least look a little ashamed. 

“Macidus was more of a threat than I calculated,” she said, “But I won’t be making that mistake again. Trust me, Shay, the last thing I want is the Galra taking away anyone else that I care about. Once Hunk is feeling up to it, we’ll go over everything again and make sure the plans include keeping him somewhere safe. Now that we’ve got Keith, we’ve got an extra pair of hands to help with the combat side of things.”

“ _ Or _ , and consider this, all of you keep your noses out of it so that none of you get hurt, and let me handle Lotor,” Lance interjected. “I dunno how you guys got mixed up with Macidus or what it is you’re trying to accomplish, but the two of you on your own trying to mess with the Galra is asking for trouble.” 

Pidge set down her tools slowly, as if she needed the motion to give her time to collect her thoughts. She took a deep breath and glared up at Lance with more ferocity than someone so small should have been able to accomplish. “The Galra asked for trouble the day they started a war and used my brother and father as their scapegoats,” she said. “And seeing as it was  _ your  _ fiance who they were framed for attacking, I don’t have any interest in backing down or letting you handle anything by yourself.”

“What, you think I had something to do with- wait.” It took a moment for the words to register, but as soon as they did Lance felt like punching himself. Maybe it was his exhaustion, or maybe he really was as stupid as everyone said for not seeing it sooner. He leapt to his feet, pointing vigorously. “Holy shit. You’re Matt’s sister. Holy shit.” He looked from her to Keith, new epiphanies popping up like fireworks exploding in his brain. “Holy shit you guys don’t know! Oh my god, this changes everything!”

“Wait, you know Matt? How do you know Matt? Is it true, do the Galra still have him?” Pidge demanded, leaping to her feet. She looked more animated, more alive than Lance had ever seen her. Keith, meanwhile, only looked pissed off, which was really just his own special way of expressing confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about, Lance? What don’t we know?” 

“They’re alive. Matt and Shiro, they’re both alive and they’re with the Voltron Coalition.” Lance watched as bemusement and then understanding and then joy light up across both of their faces simultaneously. They looked at each other, as if for confirmation, and then back at Lance.

“With Voltron?” Keith shook his head, not quite smiling but not quite frowning either as he tried to comprehend the news. “What- how do you know this?” 

Being able to deliver the good news felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, and Lance wondered how the hell he was going to get the pair of siblings back together again. That was a reunion he absolutely had to see. It was a bright source of light amongst all of this chaos. Getting kidnapped sucked for sure, but with each passing hour Lance was making new discoveries that were stacking up high in the ‘worth it’ column. 

He straightened his shoulders, offered his most Prince-ly grin, and said with an air of importance, “Because I, my dear subjects, am not just any prince. I am a  _ spy  _ for the Voltron Coalition.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Sorry this one took so long but it is here finally. I hope that you all enjoy! LMK what you think in the comments.

Lance had been hoping for some sort of amusing, dramatic reaction after his reveal. Maybe Keith jumping out of his seat, or Pidge dropping her jaw and pointing in disbelief. Maybe even some impressed hemming and hawing over how  _ cool  _ it was that Lance had been chosen for such an important and high-stakes mission. What he got instead was… None of that. 

“That makes a lot of sense, actually,” Shay said calmly, reminding Lance of her presence. “When we found out about your engagement to Lotor, Hunk was pretty upset. He kept saying there was no way you were actually in love with the Prince.”

Pidge looked confused, and while not impressed she at least seemed to be taking a moment to try and re-evaluate all of the assumptions she’d made about Lance so far. Keith, whose reaction was far more important, did not react at all. He still had that angry ‘I don’t understand’ scowl going on, but there seemed to be a bit more genuine anger to it this time. Besides that, he remained frozen in his seat, unmoving. 

“You’re telling me that  _ Voltron _ , the wanna-be rebellion out in the middle of nowhere, picked up a random farm boy off of post-war Earth and somehow managed to convince Lotor into marrying him? Putting you into the most dangerous kingdom in the galaxy where one wrong move could have you exposed and executed without a second thought? That’s ridiculous,” Keith scoffed. His voice was strained with what Lance could only assume was disbelief. Lance tried very hard to not look offended at Keith’s dismissal, but damn. What was more unbelievable, he wondered- that Lance could succeed at such a mission or that he’d even be chosen for it at all? 

Was that the real reason he’d left, because he believed Lance to be incapable? 

“Which is exactly why it’s the perfect plan,” Pidge countered. She pushed her glasses further up her nose. “The Galra are so egotistical, they’d never suspect a human spy could actually infiltrate them. Not to mention, according to all accounts, Lotor approached Lance first. Calling Lance a spy would mean either Lotor is one too, or he’s a disgrace for falling for the whole thing in the first place and sleeping with the enemy.” 

Which was  _ exactly  _ Lance’s argument when the plan had been made. But he also didn’t like how the argument pointed more at the Galra’s failings and less at Lance’s own capabilities. Lance was a bad ass, whether these dunderheads believed it or not. 

There was  _ one  _ flaw in Pidge’s statement that Lance longed to correct, but Keith spoke again before he could. 

“Yeah, and we can see how well that turned out. He got kidnapped and almost murdered. It would have been the perfect cover up. Lotor clearly figured the whole thing out and decided to kill two birds with one stone - eliminating the spy and starting a war in Balmera with one act, while also maintaining his honor,” Keith argued. “No wonder the coalition is dying, with plans like that. There’s no way Shiro was okay with that plan.”

Shiro had actually been one of the loudest voices against the plan, primarily for the danger it placed Lance in. Not that Keith would be hearing about that. Lance refused to give him the satisfaction. He crossed his arms over his chest, scowling.

“You’d know a lot more about what Shiro was okay with if you’d actually stuck around to find out,” Lance shot back at him, voice low and heavy with emotion. “I can’t believe you’ve been out there playing pirate while we mourned you.”

“I was out there  _ looking for Shiro _ ,” Keith spat, leaping to his feet. “That was the whole reason I joined the Blade in the first place! You knew I couldn’t just sit around waiting, wondering, while my brother was alive out there! You-you told me you understood why I had to go.” There was an odd quality to his voice there, at the end. He sounded hurt, which was ridiculous both in the fact that Keith thought he had any to feel that way, and in the fact that Lance actually felt guilty for a moment. 

More than anything, he wanted all of these bitter and angry feelings to leave him alone. To let him just have this moment of being happy that Keith was alive. To bask in his presence and maybe even fucking hold him or something. But so much had happened in the years that he’d been gone, and while in some ways Lance had begun to think he’d understood Keith’s motivations for leaving better than ever, he suddenly wasn’t quite sure he understood the man standing in front of him now. 

Five years had changed them both, so much that Lance also wondered if Keith really recognized him anymore. Or if they were just two strangers trying to align a memory over bodies that have changed too much to hold their shape. Would Keith even want him, after all of this time?

“I understood why you left, Keith,” Lance sighed, looking down. “What I never understood is why you never came back. Five years is a long fucking time to stay dead, my dude. There’s so much that could have turned out differently, if you’d come back. I mean Shiro, he- when I had to tell him what happened to you it was like… I watched this light fade out of him, and it never really came back.”

When he looked up, Keith was staring back at him with a wide, grief-stricken gaze.

“Lance, I-” Lance cut him off. There was a familiar sorrow that had been filling up like a balloon in Lance’s chest, growing bigger and bigger with each year that had passed, and it felt ready to burst. Lance couldn’t let that happen, could not handle the fall out of such devastating emotion.

“And my family- my mom- I... Keith, I- we needed you. Shiro needed you, and he was there the whole time waiting if you’d just pulled your head out of your ass long enough to realize that. But no, you had to go do your lone wolf hero bullshit by yourself, leaving us behind to pick up the pieces. So whatever you think about what we did with ourselves or the choices we made, you can keep that shit to yourself. You lost the right to have an opinion a long fucking time ago, buddy,” 

It wasn’t the super powerful, mic-drop kinda speech Lance really wanted to lay out, but it was the best he could manage around the lump in his throat. 

He could feel Pidge and Shay staring at him, their gazes itching across his skin. He hated feeling so vulnerable, especially in front of two people he hardly knew. There was only so much more of it he could take. Lance knew he had to step back now, to get away before he made it any worse. 

Keith seemed to be having a hard time coming up with his own response, mouth set into a firm line as he considered his words.

“Lance, I can’t- I can’t take back or change what happened. But that doesn’t mean- I still  _ care _ , dammit.”

The sound that escaped Lance’s throat was not a laugh, but more like a strange mockery of one. Like someone who had never heard the sound of it, had only heard rumor, and tried to recreate the noise. It tore out of him a little painfully. 

He refused to cry, and knew if he kept going that tears would be inevitable. And so to circumvent them completely, he decided that this would be the perfect point in the conversation to take a leaf from Keith’s book and exit stage left.

“Right. Cool. I’m gonna need some air.” Without waiting for another word, Lance stepped around Keith and out the front door, letting it slam shut behind him as a final, perhaps childish, display of emotion.

Once he was alone, the cool night air settling over his skin, Lance finally let a few tears fall but then quickly swiped them away. He hated crying - hated how vulnerable it made him feel, how it made his nose clog up and his face get red and puffy. Hated how it made breathing harder, like a vice tightening around his chest. Most of all, he hated how it reminded him that even after all of these years of suffering, Lance had still yet to hit any sort of pain threshold. That somehow, all of his past experiences hadn’t made him stronger against it, or given him any sort of advantage. He was still just as susceptible to further pain as anyone else - perhaps even weaker against it where Keith was involved. 

And what right did Keith have to hold such power over him anyways? Keith had lied to him, left him behind, and faked his own death in order to keep Lance away. And it wasn’t that Lance couldn’t understand sacrifices made for the sake of family or duty - the last five years had seen to that. So much so that Lance knew it was inevitable that such a choice would be made once again, either by Keith or even Lance himself. Whatever their past, their future was clearly doomed to be one apart, so it would be better for both their sakes that Lance simply let go. 

After all, Keith may ‘ _ care _ ’, but that didn’t mean that he still loved Lance the way that he used to. Lance might have been doomed to love Keith for the rest of his life, but that deal didn’t have to go both ways, nor did it have to mean Lance sacrificing his dignity or sanity for the sake of it. Hopeless romantic though he may be, Lance simply lacked the faith that those past feelings would be enough to make up for everything. 

From inside, Lance could hear the muffled sounds of Pidge and Keith arguing about something, and the nosy part of him itched to go back inside. But after such a dramatic outburst, he felt much better letting his nerves cool in the chilly evening air. He stepped down off of the porch and into the clearing. He’d only gotten a brief glance at stones that bordered it, having been so focused before on getting Hunk to safety and away from the voices. Now, however, he took a moment to indulge his quiet curiosity. His limited experience with magic, as well as a healthy dose of logic, told him these were clearly some kind of shield that blocked the effects of the forest. Hunk had mentioned that prolonged and frequent exposure had been helpful for him, but Lance couldn’t imagine more time with those voices doing anything except driving him to the brink of insanity. 

They had started out quiet, and yet close, like someone leaning in to whisper in his ear. They were more a feeling than a sound, sending goosebumps rippling across his flesh. It wasn’t until they got louder that Lance could understand them - or at least make them out enough to understand that there was no understanding, because they weren’t speaking English. If they were speaking any known language, his translator hadn’t been able to pick up on it, which was the biggest indicator to Lance that they were speaking directly into his mind. That alone was enough to give Lance nightmare fuel for weeks. But beyond those words was emotion and intention that felt all the more powerful in the dark, creepy lighting of the crystals. 

Lance shuddered at the memory. 

He pushed his fear aside and walked closer until he was able to kneel before the stones within touching distance. Up close, they were impossibly smooth and nearly identical in size and shape. He wondered if they were hand-polished and carved to such an exact design or if, like the cliffs and the woods, they were merely another inexplicable part of Balmera’s natural phenomena. 

Lance wondered how they worked, and how disastrous the results would be if one of them was moved even an inch out of place. 

“Lance?”

He’d never heard the front door open, nor the approaching footsteps. Startled, and embarrassed at his own lack of awareness, he stood and spun around to face Shay. She was standing just a few feet away, hands clasped anxiously in front of her. For someone who had only met him a few hours before, she looked incredibly concerned. It only increased Lance’s shame - he’d already brought so much suffering to this household by getting Hunk caught up in his mess. He shouldn’t be burdening them even more with his relationship drama.

“Hey, Shay, sorry about all of that,” he quickly threw out. He adopted what he hoped was a modest yet charming smile. “Keith and I have always had something of a volatile relationship. But I’ll make sure that I don’t disturb you guys anymore. I’ll be out of your hair first thing tomorrow morning.”

His words had intended to soothe Shay, and yet the distress in her expression only grew. 

“Lance, please, do not feel like you are a burden to us. I know that things are certainly strange, and that emotions are high, but for the sake of your friendship with Hunk, we could never turn you away or let you leave in such conditions. Please, come back inside. I’ll see to your wounds and then you can get some rest. Things will be brighter by morning light, I’m sure. Then we can attend to the more serious matters at hand.”

Lance felt his cheeks flush at her sincerity. She was a literal ray of sunshine, and Lance could see why she was such a perfect match for Hunk. How could he possibly say no to such genuine kindness and optimism?

“Alright,” he relented. “Thank you, Shay. For your hospitality to both me and Keith. We aren’t the easiest pair to have around, but I promise we won’t be a problem for you anymore.”

“Think nothing of it,” Shay said with a smile. “Come, let’s get you inside. Even with our protections, it is dangerous to be alone in the woods at night.”

* * *

_ Perhaps there was no cap on human suffering, but if there was Lance was sure he’d passed it some time ago.  _

_ It was clear within moments that there was nothing that Matt’s medic, Romelle, could do for Mama. Her body had been whisked somewhere safe and out of sight before the twins could get a good look at her, for which Lance had been grateful for. But they weren’t stupid, and were able to understand what had happened right away. And because Lance had been immediately ushered into a chair to have his own wounds attended to, he could not even comfort them as they cried.  _

_ Somewhere out of sight, baby Rachel’s soft whines and pleas for Mama could be heard, as if she too somehow knew what had been taken from her.  _

_ Lance did not cry, though he was sure it was only a matter of time. He kept silent, even as the pretty blonde Altean stripped his shirt away to get a better look at his arm. His wrist was certainly broken, though Romelle quietly assured him that it was a good, clean break and would heal in no time. _

_ Lance did not reply to her, certain that as soon as he tried to speak then he would break. If Romelle was bothered by his stubborn silence, she did not show it. She carefully wrapped the limb and dressed it with a sturdy sling before addressing his head injury. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but not before making a great mess of his hair and face. As far as head wounds went, it could have been much worse. Still, Lance could not help the sharp cry of pain as Romelle cleaned the area and dabbed it with a burning disinfectant.  _

_ It was the first vocal reaction he’d given so far, a stream of curses trailing from his lips as he flinched back. _

_ “Sorry, sorry, we’re almost done,” Romelle promised. “After this you can finally get some sleep. It’ll be a few hours until we land, so we’ll set you and your siblings up in the bunks to rest.” _

_ It was here that curiosity won out over his grief, if only for the moment.  _

_ “Where are we going?” he asked. His voice was hoarse, as though he’d already worn it out with crying.  _

_ Romelle smiled delicately. _

_ “We’re going to Arus,” she told him. “It’s the main headquarters of the Voltron Coalition.” _

_ The name was familiar, although only barely. Lance had heard it once, mentioned in a whisper between two passing soldiers in town a few months back. The Voltron Coalition, some sort of rebel faction on the outer edges of the galaxy. So small and inconsequential that the Garrison never once considered partnering with them, and the Empire never bothered attacking. They were a flea on a giant’s back, according to rumor.  _

_ And yet, nothing about Lance’s surroundings matched the messy, rag-tag group of rebels they’d been painted as. For one thing, they were mostly Alteans - a notion that Lance would have believed impossible a day ago. For another, their technology and weapons were top notch and they clearly weren’t lacking in strategy or numbers either if they were willing to take on such a risky mission like rescuing Lance’s family.  _

_ Although how would the leaders of the Coalition react, when they came back without Keith, the intended target of their rescue mission? What would happen to Lance’s family? Would they be allowed to stay for a period of time, or sent off on their own to fend from themselves in a war-torn galaxy? No, Lance couldn’t allow that. He’d have to make himself useful, somehow, make him valuable enough to keep on in exchange for keeping his siblings safe. _

_ He was hardly a soldier or a strategist, but even if it was just doing meager chores for them, he’d do it. Whatever it took. _

_ “I can see your brain working,” Romelle cut in. She dabbed at his forehead a few more times before leaning back and setting the cotton swab aside. “Whatever you’re thinking about, it can wait until after you’ve gotten your sleep. You’ve been through hell. Both your body and your mind need some time before you go tackling any other problems, alright?”  _

_ “Alright,” Lance replied, nodding. Exhaustion wrapped heavily around him now that the adrenaline was wearing off, and if sleeping meant putting off his inevitable breakdown for a little longer, he’d take it.  _

_ After he was thoroughly bandaged and given some sort of Altean pain reliever, Lance was ushered through a door and into a room lined with bunks. Once again, he was struck by how much larger this ship was than it had initially appeared. On one of the beds Marco was already passed out, curled up next to his twin. Veronica was awake and upright, cradling Rachel in her arms.  _

_ “I don’t want to just lay her on the bed,” Veronica told him without prompting. “What if she falls off?” Rachel was also fast asleep, thankfully, and Lance could see that Veronica was well on her way to it as well. The sight of her holding their youngest sibling, looking so distressed, broke Lance’s heart. He recalled stories from his Mama, and how after her own parents had died at a young age she’d taken on caring for her younger siblings. How she’d felt it was her duty as a woman and the only sister, despite having other older brothers who could have helped out.  _

_ Mama had given up so much of her childhood for that, and he vowed silently that Veronica would not have to do the same.  _

_ “I’ve got her,” he immediately said, taking the sleeping infant. Rachel did not so much as twitch during the transition. “Get some sleep, little bird. We’ll talk in the morning, ok?” _

_ Veronica shook her head, even as a large yawn escaped her. _

_ “I’m not tired,” she argued. “I’m too scared. What if they come after us? What are we gonna do without Mama?” Her voice broke at the end, chin wobbling as she tried to hold back her tears. _

_ Lance sat on the edge of the bed beside her, shifting Rachel so that he could cradle her in one arm while pulling Veronica close with the other. _

_ “I know, I know,” he said softly. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep her safe. But I promise, I’m not going to let anything else happen to you guys, okay? These people who rescued us, they’re taking us somewhere safe. After that, just leave the rest to me.” _

_ Veronica nodded, squeezing Lance around the waist before letting go. Once she was securely tucked in beside her brother, Lance made his way to the adjacent bed. He settled Rachel at the head of the bed, arranging the pillows just right so that she was protected on all sides from rolling away. And then he delicately placed himself on the very edge of the bed, making sure to keep all three of the children within his line of sight. He doubted he would get much sleep, tonight, but the least he could do was watch over them.  _

_ A few minutes later, Veronica’s soft voice called out into the darkness. _

_ “Lance?” _

_ “Yeah, Vero? What’s up?” _

_ “It’s not your fault,” she said. “What happened to Mama. It’s not your fault.” _

* * *

Lance awoke to a smell so delicious, he was almost certain for a moment that he must have died and gone to heaven. After getting up and following his nose into the kitchen, he quickly learned that it was actually Shay’s cooking. 

The night before, he had been blessed with a shower and fresh clothes before collapsing into one of the two tiny guest beds in the house. Sleep had taken him swiftly, but it had been restless - full of disturbing dreams and best-forgotten memories. Still, just those few hours of being stationary and only vaguely conscious had down wonders for his mood. 

Pidge was already up, or maybe she’d never slept because she was in the exact same seat Lance had last seen her in. This time, instead of tinkering with Rover she was typing away at her computer. Based on the heavy bags set under her eyes, Lance’s suspicions were correct. 

Keith, who had volunteered to take the couch last night (despite there being an entire empty bed beside Lance in the guest room), was nowhere to be found. The only evidence he’d ever been there in the first place was the rumpled pile of blankets left behind. Lance so desperately wanted to ask where he’d run off to, but even more desperately wanted to avoid looking too much like he cared. Keith was his own man, after all, and how he spent his mornings was none of Lance’s concern. 

“That smells  _ amazing _ , Shay,” Lance gushed, leaning against the counter to watch her cook. “Is that one of Hunk’s recipes? It smells like one of Hunk’s recipes.”

The Balmeran giggled, stirring her pan of heaven. 

“Thank you, Lance. They’re just omelettes. But yes, it is one of Hunk’s recipes. He taught me almost all of them.” 

Lance nearly wept. “It’s been too long since I’ve had Hunk’s cooking,” he cried happily. “And if this tastes even half as good as it smells, I’m certain it will be a meal to die for. Hunk taught you well.”

“Then you should probably let her work instead of drooling all over the food,” Pidge called from her perch.“I’ve got something I want to show you. C’mere.”

Lance pulled himself away from the counter with a dramatic groan, making his way over to Pidge. He was no tech expert, but as he got close enough to see her screen he could tell that whatever she was doing was some pretty advanced stuff. Her fingers flew across her keyboard faster than Lance’s eyes could hope to follow. The lines of data scrolled endlessly in the reflection of her glasses. 

“What’s up, Pidgeon?” he asked, planting himself comfortably on the arm of her chair. Pidge gave him a glare that could rival Allura, her elbow jabbing sharply into his side until he hopped off. 

“Don’t call me that,” she said. “Now, listen, I’ve got a million and one questions and not nearly enough time to go through them all, but there’s something I need to know. Does this mean anything to you?” She clicked something, and her screen changed to show a pop up window of a new line code, all of it just as mysterious to Lance as the last. It was arranged in an even stranger pattern, though, columns of lettering and numbers lining up to almost form an image. Lance squinted, tilting his head to the side to try and make sense of it.

“Weeelllll,” he began. “I’ll admit I don’t get the whole.... Letters and numbers part of it. I left all the techno mumbo jumbo to Matt, if I’m being honest. Is it a message?”

“One of many that I’ve been receiving over the last six months,” Pidge explained. “I can’t tell who they’re coming from, only that it’s coming from somewhere within the Galra Empire. It took me a while to decode it, and I’m still not sure if I’ve really got it all yet. From what I’ve been able to figure out, it’s a lot of dates, locations, and names. Sometimes I’ll get a little more, like details about Galra missions. That’s how we found out about the plan to kidnap you and were able to get in touch with Macidus so he could hire us.”

There were a few things about that revelation that surprised Lance. Either someone else, someone outside of the Coalition was working against the Galra from the inside. Or, someone knew that Pidge and Hunk would be looking and lured them right into their plans. Whether they were working with Macidus or playing some longer, deadlier game, Lance couldn’t be sure.

“It’s definitely not one of ours,” Lance said with a frown. “I’ve never seen anything like it. And if the Coalition knew what Macidus was planning, they’ve have fetched me themselves. Matt doesn’t even know where you are, said you went off the grid with your mom years ago, so he’d have no way of getting this to you.”

Pidge leaned back into her seat, expression pensive. 

“Whoever this is, they clearly know who I am, or at least have an idea of it. I’ve been hacking into the Empire’s databases for so long that it’s not surprising someone this clever caught wind of it and traced it back to me. They clearly want me to use this information against the Empire, but I’m just one person. That’s why I was hoping Keith could hook me up with the Blade. They’d help me find my family, and in return I’d give them the intel to strike against the Empire. But now that I know about Matt and the Coalition, it’s obvious I need to be working with you guys instead. Think you could hook me up?” 

Lance grinned down at the tiny genius before him.

“Why, Pidge, I’d be more than happy to. I don’t have a way to send them anything electronically - my communicator is back at the Palace. But I have a contact you can visit face to face. He’ll get you to Matt no problem. Maybe together you guys can figure out who this mysterious tipper is, and if they’re really trustworthy.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pidge said with a grateful smile. “Maybe he can help me crack the last cipher for this code.” 

Lance gave a short laugh, shaking his head.

“If anyone can do it, you two can,” he said. He looked at the screen again as he stepped back. “Huh, looks kinda like a windy tunnel.” His casual observation had been meant more as a joke, but judging by Pidge’s deadpan expression she did not appreciate it. 

“Lance, it’s a complex and multi-layered code transcribed by probably one of the greatest minds in the whole galaxy. It’s not a pictionary game,” she said. Lance held his hands up in mocking surrender. 

“Sorry, sorry, I was just saying,” he laughed, already walking away.

“Ooooh, that smells  _ amazing _ ,” Hunk declared, hobbling into the room. “Shay, please tell me you saved some for me.” The man looked surprisingly well for someone who had been stabbed just the day before, his coloring having already improved remarkably. If it weren’t for his awkward gait or the way one hand was constantly hovering near his guy, Lance wouldn’t even know he’d been injured. 

“Woah, Hunk, buddy, what are you doing walking around?” Lance chastised, already rushing to guide his friend into a seat at the kitchen table. 

“I’m starving, that’s what. Getting stabbed takes a lot out of a guy and I need about fifty of those omelettes to make up for it,” Hunk groaned. He leaned his weight against the kitchen table, watching Shay cook with hearts in his eyes. If Lance weren’t so happy for him he might have gagged. 

To gain some temporary reprieve from the sickening expression, Lance busied himself with pouring his friend a glass of water. 

“Grandma’s work is already doing you wonders,” Shay said. She set a two plates down on the table, both loaded with food. Lance’s mouth watered as he returned to the table. “But the arts of crystal healing come at a cost, so expect your appetite to be much larger than usual for the next few weeks.”

“Oh, man, there won’t be enough food in the world to keep me happy,” Hunk said with a laugh, already digging into his plate. Lance took the seat beside him, pulling his own plate closer to get a nice, long whiff of that heavenly aroma. 

“Are you hungry, Pidge?” Shay asked, already bringing over a plate. Pidge looked up, eyes lighting up in interest. 

“I’m not sure I even have time to be wasting on eating,” she said with uncertainty, though Lance could see the hungry way she stared at the plate. He took a bite of his own food, and nearly moaned at the taste. Even Galran royal cuisine just couldn’t compare. 

“Pidge, I already know you didn’t sleep. The least you can do for your body is put some of Shay’s delicious cooking into it,” Hunk told her. It sounded rehearsed, like an old argument shared a million times before. 

“Yes,  _ Mom _ ,” Pidge sassed, obediently setting her computer aside. She accepted the plate with a thankful nod, which Shay returned. “God, I’m going to have to tell my mom about Matt. He’s gonna get in so much trouble when she finds out he joined a secret rebellion without telling her.” 

Hunk did not look surprised at this revelation, so Lance figured someone must have filled him in at some point. Which was a bummer, because Lance trusted that  _ he  _ would have at least been suitably impressed at Lance’s reveal. Maybe even made a comment about how cool Lance was or something. He was a good buddy like that. 

“In Matt’s defense, he did try looking for you guys,” Lance threw in between bites. “He knew you guys were alive somewhere but had gone underground after the war started. But you covered your tracks too good for him to follow. I think it hurt him to admit that his fourteen year old sibling was smarter than him.” 

“Thank god we cover our tracks, too, because if we hadn’t that Sendak bastard would have found us and had us killed years ago. You should have seen what he did to our house after he found it empty,” Pidge remarked with a dry laugh.

There was the high-pitched sound of metal scraping across glass, and everyone turned to look at Lance. Beneath their questioning gazes, he could feel his skin grow damp with cold sweat. He cleared his throat, the well-learned sensation of anxiety numbing the tips of his fingers. 

“Sendak?” he echoed. “Big, scary Galra dude? Fancy robot arm?” 

“Don’t forget the fancy robot eye. That thing is disgusting to even look at,” Pidge said with a shudder. “Do you run into him a lot at the palace?” 

Lance shook his head. “No, I, uh, haven’t seen him even once. Never even heard him mentioned, really. He must not be that popular of a guy.” And Lance wasn’t panicking, but he was definitely feeling some kinda way about realizing that his mother’s murderer was still alive. Sure, he’d suspected it all those years ago because the dude seemed way too beefy to let a single knife-to-the-eye wound take him out. But when his life in the palace had been so beautifully uninterrupted by his ugly presence, Lance had hoped. Assumed that maybe if Lance hadn’t done the job himself, someone else had in the following five years of war. 

Not only was it an emotionally jarring realization that he was wrong. It was also a damning one. Because if Sendak was alive, then that means he could have recognized Lance. Maybe not as just one of the many human civilians he tormented over the years, but certainly as the fellow who took out his freaking eye. 

If Sendak knew who he was, then he knew Lance had not only been seen with the rebels at the start of the war, but had every reason to hate the Empire and seek to uproot them. And if the told Lotor, then… That would give Lotor all the more motive to arrange his kidnap and murder. Shit, maybe Keith was right. Lance’s cover was totally blown.

“Wait, if you never heard of him then how do you know him?” Hunk asked. Lance shook his head, standing up from his chair. It scraped loudly against the hardwood. He winced, realizing how ridiculous he probably looked in that moment. 

“Oh, y’know, cool rebel stuff. Hey, where did Keith go? That lousy mullet is missing out on this awesome food. I’m gonna go look for him!” He shoved himself away from the table, abandoning his half-eaten food, to make for the front door. He made it maybe five paces before said door was swinging open to reveal the mullet in question.

And, uh. Okay, so Lance knew Keith was hot shit. Like, watched puberty fly in and turn his already adorable pre-teen self into a sexy ass beefcake over the years, and then got to spend many, many hours learning every layer of that delicious meal. So much so that one look at that tight ass wrapped in Marmora leather told Lance all he’d needed to know about who was under that mask (not that he’d ever admit  _ that  _ aloud). And, he’d established that five years and longer hair and scars and even more beef just made Keith way hotter, right? Like, Lance was pissed and heartbroken, but he wasn’t blind. 

But apparently Keith had decided Lance hadn’t understood this fact well enough, because there he fucking stood, dressed in nothing but a pair of borrowed sweats and a loose fitting muscles shirt (the kind that gaped open so far on the sides that really, what was the point of even wearing a shirt). His skin, so beautifully on display, glistened with sweat. There were more scars than Lance remembered, and while he hated knowing that they meant Keith had been hurt at some point, they also definitely upped the wow-factor by a bajillion. Also, he’d tied his stupid hair up into that stupid ponytail that he  _ knew  _ drove Lance crazy back in the day. And that particular obsession had apparently not faded over the years. 

To put it simply, Lance had absolutely no idea  _ where  _ to rest his hungry, slutty eyes. But as long as they were looking at something on this gorgeous man, they did not care. Lance’s heart begged to differ. The sudden one-eighty of emotion was so intense that it skipped right past racing, launching itself into FTL speeds and out of his chest. He was a dead man, that was for certain.

“Oh, there he is,” Pidge said brightly. “Have a good morning workout?” 

Keith, who had frozen in the doorway like a deer in headlights (probably caught off guard by the way Lance was trying to eat him with his fucking eyes  _ oh my god look away for christ’s sake _ ) shook himself out of his stupor and closed the door behind him. 

“Uh, it was a workout,” he said uncertainly. As if he wasn’t a total gym rat who thrived on adrenaline and the miserable muscle burning that came with any physical labor. He gave Lance a weird look, and then carefully stepped around him. He reaches up to tighten his ponytail, biceps flexing with the motion. Lance dies a little more. “I’m gonna hit the shower before I eat, if that’s okay?” 

“Take your time! I’ll keep it warm for you,” Shay promised. It was only when Keith was finally a safe enough distance (AKA out of physical reaching distance) that Lance finally found his voice.

“Yeah, you’d better shower. You reek, dude,” he called out. Keith, who had never before failed to rise to even the pettiest of challenges before, only gave Lance another look before vanishing down the hall.

“Haha, nice one,” Hunk cheered. Because he rocked. 

“You guys are so gross,” Pidge muttered, already done eating and returning to her laptop. “When you do finally get around to banging it out, make sure it’s somewhere I can’t hear you. Please and thanks.”

Lance only groaned, dropping his face into his hands. It felt hot to the touch, a sure sign that he was blushing. Fantastic. 

“I’m gonna go stab my eyes out with some sticks outside. Peace out,” he said, already walking out the front door to do just that. Or maybe just punch some trees until he stopped feeling emotions. Was that a healthy coping mechanism?

Probably not. 


End file.
